


The Next Best Thing

by Anna (adoring_audience)



Series: A Storm's Gonna Come Universe [2]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 65,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoring_audience/pseuds/Anna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a sequel series set in the universe of A Storm’s Gonna Come. It starts where ASGC ended, so you’d be well advised to read that one first if you haven’t yet. The Next Best Thing is a finished, feel good story. It’s told in a vignette-y kind of way, covering almost two years in 8 chapters, so prepare for leaps in time. Basically, it’s just a glance into Brian’s and Justin’s lives during their New York adventure.</p><div class="center">
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	1. Chapter 1

Present, May 2011

**-New York City-**

"Boy, do you clean up nicely, Mr. Kinney.”

“Huh?” Brian gave back in a distracted voice.

Justin rose from the bed where he’d been sitting watching Brian and walked over to the closet where Brian stood in front of, knotting his tie, with his mind far away. Justin stepped behind Brian and rested his palms on his shoulders. They were tense as they have been pretty much every day for the last couple of months. Justin began kneading them softly and absentmindedly, studying Brian’s reflection in the mirror. When he was sure he had Brian’s attention, he said, “Hmm, there’s something to be said about gorgeous men in form-fitting Armanis.” He licked his lips to emphasize his point.

Brian smirked mockingly at him when he saw the hunger in Justin’s eyes. “Sunshine, you’ve seen me in a suit before.”

“Yeah,” Justin replied dreamily, eyes wandering Brian’s body in the full body mirror, “but I haven’t in a long time.”

“Ahh,” Brian replied and nodded knowingly, “so that’s the reason for tonight’s outing.”

Justin was jarred out of his contemplations of Brian’s body and he brought his eyes back up to meet Brian’s. He looked funnily at his partner, head tilted slightly to one side. “Yeah, okay, let’s go with that,” he cryptically replied. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Just let me grab my BlackBerry and we’ll be on our way.”

“Brian, you’re not going to work during our meal, right? We’re supposed to be having dinner, not a business meeting. And even then it would be rude to bring your PDA.”

“No, I’m not going to work during dinner. But I can finish a few things on our way there,” Brian argued, his attention already on the small screen in his hand.

Justin watched him for a second, sighed, and decided to let it drop. Tonight was not the night to pick a fight. He just wanted to have a nice evening and to have Brian all to himself. It seemed they hadn’t done it in a long time. Too fucking long. Justin sighed again as he followed Brian out of the apartment.

Brian kept his word and packed the organizer away as soon as they entered the restaurant. A friendly waitress showed them to their table – a secluded spot half-hidden behind a waist high partition – and Brian managed to have a conversation with Justin that did not involve the words work or Kinnetik for an admirably long time, meaning till they’d gotten their drinks and ordered their food. After which Justin excused himself to make a quick trip to the men’s room. When he arrived back at their table, Brian had his phone out and was typing something. Justin guessed an email or some work-related notes for later. Nowadays, Brian was always typing notes to refer to either Ted or Cynthia later.

Justin sat back down in his chair, leaned back stiffly and crossed his arms in front of him, regarding Brian calmly, waiting for Brian to notice him. After a moment, Brian looked up and, noticing Justin’s sour expression, asked, “What?”

“You promised you wouldn’t work during dinner,” he reminded him. Justin spoke quietly, trying to keep the accusation from his voice, but not quite managing. “Seriously Brian, can’t you just let it go for one evening?”

“I am letting it go,” Brian protested. “This wasn’t work related.” Justin raised both eyebrows quizzically. “I was texting Molly, asking if everything was alright.”

“I’m sure it is,” Justin told him. His sister was taking care of Alex and Emma tonight and though it was her first time of doing it in New York, it was not her first time playing the babysitter for the girls in general. In fact, Molly insisted on spending time with the girls without the dads present. And when she heard that Justin had a dinner planned, she wouldn’t even listen to Brian’s protests and almost threw them out of their own home. Well, home away from home anyway.

Justin remembered the exchange from today’s late afternoon. Molly had to practically beg Brian to leave the house and the kids in her care.

“Honest to God, Brian, I think I’ve spent more time with the twins when you were still living in Britin and I lived in New York. Stop micro-managing already. I know how to take care of my nieces.”

“I know you do,” Brian had replied. “I’m just saying we don’t have to go out tonight. There’s a ton of things I’ve to do and if you’ve already made plans or something...”

“I haven’t. And yes, you do have to go out.” She sighed and released a breath. “Oh, boy. I was hoping I’d be able to guilt you into buying a dress for this party next weekend, but now I have to beg you?”

Brian had had nothing to reply to that, except for, “What kind of party?”

“Birthday bash. A friend of mine turns 21.”

“Jovani?”

“Mmh, I’m thinking less dressy.”

Brian had thought for a second. “Sherri Hill?”

Molly’s eyes had lit up. “Perfect!”

“Saturday at three?”

Justin had thought they were speaking a different language, but Molly had squealed quite loudly at that and almost jumped Brian, hugging him. “You’re the best. Seriously!”

Brian, completely taken aback by Molly’s excitement, had endured her show of gratitude. His arms had risen undecidedly as if he was contemplating hugging her back, before he lowered them again. Justin had been just about to pull his sister away from him when she’d correctly interpreted Brian’s sudden petrification as awkwardness. A bit embarrassed about losing her coolness for a moment, though not enough to dim her enthusiasm, she’d pulled back and smiled apologetically. “I mean,” she had stuttered, “thanks. That’s cool.” Brian had nodded once and that had been it.

Brian’s phone beeped, a melody playing at a discreet noise level, and pulled Justin from his thoughts. He looked reproachfully at Brian who held his gaze without blinking. Justin deflated. “Go on, check your messages.” He sounded defeated.

Brian didn’t move a muscle and continued to look at his partner. “It’s not work. It’s Molly.” After he said it, he grabbed his phone and read out loud, “Girls are asleep. Stop worrying; it’ll keep the Botox costs low. Tell my brother to grow a pair and push the switch off button on that phone of yours so you two can enjoy your evening together.” Justin grinned and held out his hand. Molly’s idea was brilliant; he wished he’d thought of it. Brian hesitated a moment then relented and handed over his BlackBerry. Justin got an indecent amount of fun out of turning it off and expressed it with a shit-eating grin.

“What are we celebrating?” Brian asked after he tucked away the now incapacitated device in his inside pocket.

“What?” Justin asked, wrinkling his brows in confusion.

“I asked you earlier why you wanted to go out tonight and you didn’t reply. So, why are we here? You scored big with a gallery or something? Sold an expensive painting to some fawning fan? One of my naked dick maybe?” Brian laughed.

“Brian…” Justin carefully began but didn’t know how to continue.

“What?” Now it was Brian’s turn to be confused. Justin was acting weird, awkward and obviously uncomfortable. “Oh shit, is it some bad news? Is this why we’re here? You think breaking it to me somewhere where it won’t get loud will keep the noise level down, is that it? Who fucked up what?”

Justin now flat out stared at him, perfectly irritated.

The longer he did, the angrier Brian became. With the rising anger a dangerous calm overcame his body, making him freeze into a stone. His voice perilously low, he said, or rather hissed, “Spit it the fuck out, Sunshine.”

Justin’s answer wasn’t making any sense once it came. “You really don’t know what day it is?” he asked.

Brian stared at him, not comprehending. Justin stared back, starting to look amused the longer their staring contest continued. Eventually he reached behind himself and pulled out a small rectangular package, black with a single gold ribbon around it. “Here’s a clue.” The words accompanied the gift as he passed it to Brian.

Brian let it lie where it were, beside his place setting, now suspiciously eyeing Justin who was downright looking like he was about to laugh now. “Did I miss our anniversary or something?” Brian asked derisively, side-glancing at the package.

“Or something,” Justin answered between a few suppressed giggles.

Brian, growing impatient at his behavior, took out his PDA again, wanting to glance at the date but since it was turned off his effort was in vain. He thought harder. It was mid-May. He was fairly certain it wasn’t Gus’ birthday; but the date did seem kind of familiar.

While he was still trying to figure it out, Justin said, “Happy Birthday.”

Brian gawked at him.

“Seriously, old man. I was hoping Alzheimer’s wouldn’t hit for another decade or two. But I guess you always were ahead of your time.” Justin smiled at him and reached over the table to lay a palm against Brian’s cheek. “I love you, Brian,” he quietly said.

Relieved, though a little embarrassed for both, having forgotten his birthday and receiving a gift, he turned his head slightly. It just so happened that his lips came in contact with Justin’s palm, so while already there Brian decided to place a kiss on it. “What is it?” he asked, redirecting the attention to the gift.

“Open it,” Justin replied and sat back to watch Brian.

Brian slid the gold ribbon down and pulled the box open. Inside lay a pen of white gold, personalized with an engraving of the new Kinnetik NYC – KinNY – logo and Brian’s name on it. Beside it rested a letter opener in matching style, also engraved, and a flat box that looked almost like a Zippo lighter, but was in fact a business card holder with identical engravings. Brian’s fingers ghosted over the objects, a small smile playing on his lips. The sort of smile that told Justin he liked his gift, liked it very much, but would be embarrassed to admit it.

“You should have waited with the engraving at least till we’ve put up the sign on the building.”

Justin knew what Brian was saying but he had no doubt that he’d be successful in New York, just like he would be anywhere else. “Stop spreading this pessimistic bullshit,” Justin told him. “Nobody believes you anyway.” He sent a brilliant smile after his words.

“My own personal cheerleader,” Brian mocked him, but smiled nonetheless.

They were quiet for a few seconds, basking in the presence of each other. A sudden urge to hold Brian’s hand overcame Justin and he raised his arm, reaching for Brian’s but abandoned the idea half-way through, thinking that Brian would call him a lesbian or something equally charming. So he just rested his hand on the table, beside his drink. Brian looked at his hand, then at him, then rolled his eyes. He grabbed Justin’s hand and interlaced their fingers, squeezing them lightly. “Twat,” he said, but it came out soft and gentle.

Their food arrived moments later. It was brought over by a different waitress than the one that had taken their orders. She didn’t say anything aside from telling them to let her know if they needed anything else, but her lips quirked in distaste when she saw their entwined hands. Brian acted as though he didn’t notice, but even before she left their table, he pulled Justin’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on his knuckles.

“Subtle,” Justin commented dryly. “Really smooth.” Brian just shrugged and reached for the knife and fork, cutting up his steak.

For a while they ate quietly, sharing only the occasional smile or reaching for a piece of food from each other’s plates.

“Mmm,” Brian sighed contently and leaned back in his chair when he finished the main course. “That was really good.” With satisfaction Justin noticed that Brian had almost cleared his plate. Since it was after seven, this little fact was more of a compliment to the cook than he or she would ever realize. While Justin was finishing mopping his plate with a piece of bread – the gravy was fucking delicious – he watched Brian out of the corners of his eyes. He looked so relaxed, more so than Justin had seen him since they came to New York. He actually looked like he was enjoying himself and not thinking about work for once.

“You’re working too hard, Brian,” Justin said into the ensuing silence. He had so much more to say on the subject. And judging by Brian’s facial expression, Brian knew that too.

“Hey, I just realized,” Brian exclaimed, changing the topic. Justin recognized it for what it was and told him with his eyes that even though he was letting it go for now, the subject was far from being closed. “If it’s my birthday, what are you doing all the way over there?” he asked, nodding towards Justin across the table. Not waiting for a reply, he grabbed Justin’s chair and pulled it, and Justin, closer. The legs scraped on the hardwood floor, but Justin’s yelp drowned the sound out.

He nervously glanced around the restaurant, eyes searching for the waitress that had given them a bit of an attitude when bringing their food. But Brian slung an arm around Justin’s shoulders and so demanded his full attention. “My birthday, my rules,” he whispered in Justin’s ear.

“You forgot it even was your birthday,” Justin reminded him. “I just figured you wouldn’t want anyone to mention it, so I didn’t and even told the family not to call, but you seriously forgot it.” Justin knew it was just another side effect of working too hard, but it was still unfathomable to him how Brian could work himself into an early grave like that. The stress lines around his mouth and eyes had gotten more pronounced, but Justin would never tell him that. “How can you forget your own birthday?”

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me,” Justin replied seriously.

“I’m sorry,” Brian said, but it sounded almost like a question.

“I don’t want you to apologize. I want you to stop pushing yourself so hard.”

They were interrupted when the girl that had taken their orders before, stopped by their table to ask if they wanted dessert. Justin, uncharacteristically, only ordered a cappuccino. Brian had half-expected him to order every single item on the dessert menu and force a bite of each onto him. When the waitress turned her attention on Brian, he thought for a moment, then said, “One piece of the best chocolate cake you have with whipped cream on the side, one serving of tiramisu and a coffee.”

“You’re going to eat chocolate cake and tiramisu?” Justin asked when they were alone again, surprised at Brian’s order.

Brian grinned. “No, but you are.”

“But it’s your birthday,” Justin protested.

“Which I forgot and you remembered.”

Justin let his eyes become misty, mostly because he figured it would annoy Brian. “I love it when you let the closeted romantic in you show. You’re really starting to live up to the potential your initials suggest.”

“Huh?”

“You know, because you share your initials with a couple whose love has inspired millions of little children and created dreams of white weddings, livelong devotion and happily ever afters.”

Brian frowned and thought hard. Then he eyed the bottle of wine they had with their meal. “Are you drunk?”

Justin shook his head no. He explained in a plain ‘it-should-be-so-obvious’ voice, “Barbie and Ken.”

“Oh, God,” Brian moaned, “you are drunk.”

“Well, then I expect you to take advantage of me later,” Justin replied and grinned wide. Brian just had to lean over and kiss him.

❖❖❖

Brian lay awake, staring at the ceiling, or rather at the darkness that hid it from him, while rhythmically combing his fingers through long blond locks. He’d never been on first name terms with insomnia – every night that he’d abandoned sleep in the past, had been in favor of physical activities of the horizontal kind and definitely by his own choice. But then again, he’d never been responsible for the well-being of a family before either.

He couldn’t sleep for a number of reasons. There were the renovations in the building that was supposed to eventually house the New York branch of Kinnetik and which they were running behind on for the sole reason that no renovations had been planned at all when Brian had first seen the place and signed the lease later. Then there was the task of hiring people and though they weren’t lacking neither in number of applications nor in enthused excitement, there was a definite want for talent or at the very least ability to differentiate between catchy and lame on the applicant’s part. And not to forget Kinnetik back in Pittsburgh, or The Headquarters, as Justin had gotten used to calling it lately, that demanded to be managed from afar. And even though those were all perfectly fine reasons to be losing sleep over, Brian also knew that they barely made the list because of other, more pressing and acute matters. He only had to remember the way Alex clutched to him every morning before he left for work or the way Emma would beg for a second or even a third good night story in the evening, to know that he’d fucked something up that had been fine before, flawless in fact.

Hadn’t it been just last Christmas that he had a talk with Lindsay where she marveled at how well-adjusted the twins were. Well, she would have a field day with them now, Brian grimly thought. They had never before been clingy or prone to crying. But since the move to New York and their separation from the family, Alex and Emma didn’t like to be left alone; even if ‘alone’ meant in the care of Molly whom they knew just as well as any other member of their family. It didn’t take a psychologist to know what made them this antsy: it was his own selfishness that had put them in this situation and he didn’t know how to deal with the mess they were in. So he worked harder, longer, faster; all to ensure that their stay in New York would last only as long as absolutely necessary. The girls wanted to go home and Brian was miserable being the reason that they could not. And all of it just for business. A laugh, but one with no humor in it, threatened to escape from his throat and Brian bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from releasing it. Business. Wasn’t that just hilarious – history repeating itself. It was almost funny.

“Wanna go to the bathroom for a quick fuck?” Justin’s voice interrupted Brian’s thoughts. He sounded sleepy and Brian wished he could pull him closer. Instead, Brian reached over the girls between them and felt for Justin’s head, sinking his fingers in the messy strands of hair. “Brian?” Justin mumbled.

Brian could hear the concern in his voice. It was just one more reason to feel guilty about. On top of everything else that Justin had to take care of, he was now constantly concerned for his partner.

“It’s okay,” Brian whispered back, careful not to wake up the girls. “Go back to sleep.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Justin admitted. “I worry about you,” he added and confirmed Brian’s thoughts.

“I’m fine,” Brian answered. “I’m used to working long hours. You know that. I’m not gonna drop dead or have a heart attack all of a sudden just because it’s a bit stressful at the moment.”

Justin had so many things to say on that matter. He knew Brian tended to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but enough was enough. They needed to continue the talk they’d started in the restaurant. But not here. “I think I want a glass of warm milk. You wanna join me and maybe have a drink yourself?” he began, remembering that Brian was more accessible after a few shots of Bourbon Whisky. He wasn’t above using this knowledge to his advantage. Brian’s fingers in his hair tightened slightly. He waited a second longer, expecting Brian to protest, but he didn’t. Justin took the silence for agreement.

He heard Brian get out of bed, followed by the sound of his silky bathrobe. “Go ahead,” Brian told him. “I have to make a trip to the bathroom first.”

Justin checked to make sure Emma and Alex were tucked securely under the blankets before pulling on a sweater hoodie – the first thing his fist closed in on when he grabbed inside the walk-in closet – and slipped quietly through the bedroom door. In the kitchen, he switched on the light, his eyes squeezing shut at the sudden brightness and grabbed the milk from the fridge. He went through the routine of heating up a glass of milk, but when he was finished, Brian still hadn’t shown up, so Justin picked up the glass and took it with him to the living room. He swept the space, not spotting Brian; but he found an opened Beam bottle and the gust of a cold spring night made him turn towards the French windows. He poked his head through the gap and, as expected, found Brian standing near the roof railing, quietly staring at the nightly lit city, nursing his drink. It was the middle of May in New York, but the temperatures still dropped close to the freezing point in the night. Yet Brian stood there with nothing on but a worn out pair of sweat pants and his thin satin robe.

Justin grabbed a woolen blanket from one of the sofas and wrapped it tightly around himself before stepping into the nightly cold air. He walked up to Brian, mentally cursing himself for not putting on some shoes or at least socks, as the cold seeped into his body, stinging his skin. Justin ignored the freezing pain and stood quietly beside Brian, staring out at the vastness of the city below them.  
After several minutes of standing wordlessly side by side, Brian glanced at his partner from the corner of his eyes. “You should go inside.”

“No,” Justin serenely answered, not looking at Brian.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Then we can be sick in bed together,” Justin replied with a pathos of derisive devotion. He still didn’t spare Brian a glance, but a corner of his mouth pulled up in an almost grin. So did Brian’s. “We can take each other’s temperature, feed each other chicken soup, wipe each other’s nose. It’ll be so romantic.”

“Ridiculously romantic,” Brian joined in the taunt.

For a few seconds, they remained quiet, before Brian broke the silence and said with a chuckle, “That’s disgusting, Sunshine.”

“You think you’re so hot when you’re all covered in snot?” Justin retorted.

“Yes, I am. I’m always hot.”

They were quiet for a while, enjoying the light-hearted banter and the diffusion of a strained atmosphere. Both kept their gazes on the horizon, marked by countless lights. The night sounds rising up and enveloping them in a dull echo of the streets below.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Brian eventually said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No, you’re right. We should be in bed. Sleeping or fucking or,” Justin paused, “cuddling.” When Brian rolled his eyes but didn’t answer, Justin too turned serious. “We’re exactly where we should be,” Justin rejected Brian’s initial statement.

“What if this was a mistake?” And now Justin really had to listen hard to understand what Brian said because Brian had barely breathed it.

Justin turned around at that and grabbed Brian’s upper arms, turning the brunet around and forcing him to look him in the eyes.

“First of all, what exactly was the mistake? Kinnetik New York? You can’t know that. You just started! Did you expect to wrap up everything in a few weeks’ time? I know you’re working like that’s your intention, but even you can’t start a business from scratch in just a couple of weeks or months. At least not if you want it to be successful. And honestly, even though you probably don’t want to hear it, but your mind’s not in it. Half the time you’re occupied with thinking how much you fucked us up, even though you haven’t, or how much we suffer from coming here, even though we don’t, or how guilty you feel about it, even though there’s nothing to feel guilty about. You’re trying to force it and that’s not how it works. Take your time, get your mind to it, for fuck’s sake. Be the Brian I know and love. And if you try and you still fail, then be a man about it. But at least you will have tried. Really tried! Not just pretended to.”

“That wasn’t the mistake I was—”

“I know,” Justin interrupted him. “I know! And it brings me to my second point.” Justin snapped for air, hoping it would calm him and at the same time give him a second to sort out his thoughts so he could figure out how to approach this issue best. “Brian,” he started, “we’re your family; we’re not your project. You can’t fix things just because you want them to be alright again. You’ve gotta give us all time to adjust. And they will. You’ll see; they will!”

Brian shook his head, ready to contradict, but Justin wasn’t finished yet.

“It’s been only a couple of months, Brian. Not even. Things will get better. But you have to stop obsessing about everything!”

“They’re clingy when one of us leaves the house. They’re cranky. They’re not sleeping.” Brian said in a small voice.

“They’re sleeping right now.” Brian looked at him irritated and Justin hurried to add, “I know what you meant.”

Ever since they came to New York City, the twins had not been sleeping well. In fact, they hadn’t yet managed to get them to fall asleep in their own beds, in their own room. Instead, after trying for hours, they would take the girls with them to their own bed, where they’d be dead to the world in a matter of minutes, falling asleep from exhaustion. Justin hoped it was the result of the move; a temporary occurrence that would be gone in another few weeks.

Justin watched as Brian upended the glass and downed the rest of its contents. So quietly, Justin almost didn’t hear him, Brian whispered, “I don’t want them to hate me.”

Justin’s mouth fell open and he shook his head. If he hadn’t been the younger one of the two, he’d strongly doubt he’d be able to put up with Brian’s drama queen antics. Every little thing was always the end of the world in his universe. “Brian, that’s seriously the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say. And keep in mind you’ve said some pretty ridiculous things in the first few years I’ve known you.”

“We’re not happy here,” Brian stated blandly. “You’re going to argue that?”

“Because you’re not letting us be. You work like a maniac and even when you’re home, you’re barely there you’re so stressed. Your guilt comes off of you in waves and it’s making me sad to see you like this. That’s not exactly a great basis to build happy memories on.”

Brian contemplated that and Justin was glad that he listened. “They miss Britin,” Brian eventually replied.

“Duh! I should hope so; it’s their home.”

“Exactly,” Brian exclaimed, feeling like he gained the upper ground suddenly. “And I’m pulling them away from it. One day soon they’ll start to resent me for it.”

Justin pressed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose. Brian could be a thick-headed bastard sometimes. “They won’t,” Justin said.

“How do you know? You got a crystal ball?” Justin almost laughed, but thought now was not the place or time.

“No, dumbass,” he pulled Brian around to face him, “I know because a: they’re too young to follow your stupid logic and b: they love you. They adore you. In their eyes, you’re a hero who can do no wrong.”

When Brian remained silent, Justin asked calmly, reasonably, “Brian, why did we come here?”

“I wanted a New York office for Kinnetik,” Brian answered.

“No,” Justin said, “that’s why you came here. Why did we come?”

“That’s stupid. We are a family. We don’t live in separate cities. We do things together,” Brian explained and wondered when the fuck they’d switched roles.

“Exactly. We’re a we now – remember that conversation? So stop acting like you dragged us all into some godforsaken place and forced us to do something we didn’t want. This is not a dirty tent in some bushwhacked tundra. This is a Manhattan penthouse, for crying out loud. I bet you anything you care to wager that if you slow down and stop brooding, the girls will relax too.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, Brian, it is,” Justin contradicted. “It is that easy. You’ve met our daughters, right? You know how quick they are to pick up on the moods of others. Especially yours. I’ll only admit it once and afterwards I’m going to deny of ever saying it out loud, but they are totally fixated on you. If you’re unhappy, they’re unhappy. Tomorrow, when you go to work, do it with a smile on your face. And don’t rush coming home the second you’re done meeting with the construction crew or whomever. Finish your job for the day before you come back so that when you’re home, you’re home and not still at work in your mind. It doesn’t matter that you’re home physically if you’re not with us in your head. So I want you to leave in the morning, do your job, but leave it there when you return home.”

“You’re awfully ambitious to get rid of me,” Brian tried to joke, silently admitting defeat.

“I admit I have a hidden agenda.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re driving me crazy with your crazy schedule and your guilt-trip. I can’t paint when you’re like that. And I want to paint! So please, I’m begging you, go and be the businessman I know you can be. For the span of a working day every day, alright? And don’t bring work back with you,” he implored again. “Leave it at the office.”

Brian nodded and Justin exhaled in relief. He let his head fall against Brian’s chest, and let himself be pulled into his partner’s embrace. Brian’s hands slipped under the blanket that hung loosely on Justin’s shoulders and he rubbed the blond’s upper arms vigorously before wrapping the blanket around the both of them.

“We’re good?” Justin asked, wanting to make sure he interpreted the nodding correctly.

“Yes.”

“You’ll be the successful ad exec slash entrepreneur again?”

“Ooh, big words,” Brian teased and earned himself a slap from Justin. “Yes.”

“And you’ll wear your fancy expensive suits again that make you look hotter than fuck?”

Brian smiled. “Does your libido need a push?”

“I think it’s you who needs a push occasionally. Though I’m sure the libido has nothing to do with that.” He rubbed himself on Brian in an effort to get warm but it was mistaken for a sexual advance by the older man.

“So, bathroom you said?” Brian asked, referring to their conversation in the bedroom.

“God, yes!” Justin enthused. “I need a hot shower. My feet are frozen solid.”

Brian looked down on the blond, just then noticing that he was standing there barefoot. “Are you fucking crazy?” he called out. “You could get pneumonia, you stupid twat.”

Brian picked Justin up and threw him over his right shoulder, quickly making his way back inside. He laid him down on the large sofa, and reached for another blanket, covering Justin with it and tucking it in at the sides.

“Stay there,” he ordered, leaving the room.

Justin sighed happily. He was still shivering and cold, but he didn’t care. As long as things were alright between him and Brian again, the rest would just fall into place. After a few minutes, Brian came back carrying a small tub which he placed beside the sofa.

“Sit up and put your feet in there,” Brian ordered him again and Justin happily complied. The water was warm and not hot, but because his feet felt like two ice blocks, the water still stung at the contact.

Brian sat down on the sofa beside the blond, wrapping an arm around the smaller form and pulling Justin into his chest. Justin leaned back and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Brian’s body and the warm water. He didn’t resist when he felt himself falling asleep.

❖❖❖

Justin woke up when he felt movement above him. He opened one eye to assess the situation and saw Alex crawling over him on her way to reach her favorite sleeping spot, which was Brian’s chest. Justin moved his head. It was still dark outside and Justin guessed that Alex must have woken up when she felt she was alone in the bed with Emma. Or maybe she just felt the lack of Brian’s presence. Justin sometimes joked about it, but he came to accept it as a fact that Alex was connected to Brian in a way which Justin would never be able to explain properly. It was probably this strange connection that the two of them shared that made her get out of bed and seek Brian out. Justin lay back down and watched as Alex made herself comfortable. Brian never woke up; but he adjusted his position slightly to provide a better place for her to lie down on and his arm moved and wrapped protectively around the girl, fingers tangling into the blond strands.

When the girl finally found the perfect spot, eyes level with Justin’s who lay on Brian’s shoulder, she looked at her father with big blue eyes that were the exact shade of his own, a content smile gently curling her lips. A rush of love for his little family surged hotly through Justin’s whole body and made him smile.

“You okay, Alex?”

She nodded into Brian’s chest. “Daddy piwow.”

Justin smiled. “Yes, Daddy’s a great pillow, huh?”

She nodded again. Justin pulled up a little to reach her forehead and placed a small kiss on the soft skin.

“Good night, baby. Love you.”

“G’nigh.”

Justin waited till she fell asleep again before extricating himself from under Brian’s arm. He went back to the bedroom and lay down on the bed beside the sleeping form of Emma. He’d have loved to spend the night sleeping in Brian’s arms because it felt like it had been ages since they were so relaxed with each other that they could actually enjoy each other’s company. However, he didn’t want Emma to wake up alone. He adjusted the blankets around his daughter and fell asleep almost immediately.


	2. Chapter 2

Present, May 2011

  
  
**-New York City-**

  
  
When Justin woke up, Emma was already gone. He swept the bedroom once to make sure she wasn’t in the room, but couldn’t spot her. Abandoning his warm place under the blanket, he went in search of his renegade daughter. Passing the living room, he checked on Brian and Alex, half-expecting Emma to have joined them sometime during the night. But they were alone, still sleeping in the same position as they had when Justin left them. He adjusted the blanket over Brian and Alex which had slipped a little during the night, and went in search of his other daughter.  
  
Molly’s door was closed which probably meant that she was still asleep; a glance at the clock on the wall confirmed his assumption. Though it wasn’t totally implausible for Emma to have joined her aunt, Justin didn’t want to knock on Molly’s door and risk waking her. That only left the bathroom or the kitchen. The moment he finished this thought he heard noises from the general direction of the kitchen – metallic clutter and a hollow thud followed by unidentifiable rumbling. He wondered if maybe Molly was already up and making breakfast, so he proceeded to the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the room. There was Emma, barely recognizable amidst the mass of pots, pans, and various bowls – all pulled out from the cabinets she was able to reach. Ever the inventive one, she had pulled out the bottommost drawers of a cabinet, had emptied it of all the pots to be able to climb in herself and use the drawer as a makeshift stepladder to be able to reach the higher shelves. There were also several cans and canned beverages that she’d managed to pull from the pantry, some were still spinning on the floor, accounting for the noise Justin had heard a few seconds before. But what made Justin stare in stupefied horror was not the amassed kitchenware but the fine layer of flour that dusted every available surface, including Emma herself. Emma meanwhile had somehow gotten her hands on a package of previously opened sugar and, clutching it to her chest with one arm, sat happily down on the tiled floor, her blankie bunched up beside her, luxuriated in licking her finger before dipping it into the sugar package with gusto.  
  
Justin stood in the doorway, not yet able to move, and just stared at the little girl on the floor, displaying a ridiculously wide, happy smile on her face.  
  
“Emma, uhmm…” Justin started but was interrupted by his daughter.  
  
“Look, Daddy,” she said happily, holding up the sugar-coated finger for him to see.  
  
“I see it, Sweetie, oh, I see it,” Justin muttered in reply, though mostly to himself. “You made a mess,” he said a bit louder.  
  
“No,” Emma protested. “Wakfast,” she explained and demonstratively licked her finger with a delighted flourish.  
  
Breakfast indeed, Justin thought but couldn’t find the right words to start. He covered his mouth with one hand and slowly shook his head while internally debating whether it was advisable to follow his instinct and just laugh at the whole incident or to act like a parent and start a lecture. His inner monologue was interrupted when Molly, in her pink pajamas and fluffy huge slippers that looked like pink elephants, entered the kitchen. She was yawning and rubbing her head, messing up the very bad bed hair even more.  
  
“I heard noise fro… Hooooly crap,” she also froze in her track, eyes bulging, but recovered enviably fast. She chuckled once then pulled up her brows, shrugged, and said, “This sure tops this one time when I upturned a bowl of pancake batter onto my head.” She walked over to Emma and held up her hand for a high five. “Party on, girl.” Emma happily slapped her hand just like she was taught and Molly let herself down, sitting cross-legged beside her niece. “Sugar, huh?” she asked the little girl. “I get the craving for a sugar high. Tell you a secret though: next time go for the cookie dough,” she advised in a conspiratorial tone.  
  
“Molly!” Justin exclaimed. He couldn’t believe his sister would undermine his parental authority like that. Or at least what was to become the exercise of parental authority in the form of a lecture – Justin hadn’t yet decided. The parenting handbooks he’d read sure didn’t cover  _this_.  
  
“What?” Molly asked innocently, “I’m not her parent. I don’t have to be all correct and uptight. That’s your job.” With a huge grin, she added, “I’ll be the cool aunt who lives in New York and takes them shopping and talks to them about boys.”  
  
“Nice job description. You’re hiring?” Brian asked, appearing in the hallway, carrying a still half-asleep Alex who sat astride his hip, her head tucked under Brian’s chin. They’d probably been woken up by the clatter too. “What’s the ruckus all about?” Brian asked in reference to the clanking of pots and pans and cans that were only now coming to a halt. At the sight of the mess, he fell silent and stopped just outside the kitchen entrance. “What the fu—” he broke mid-sentence. Glancing around, Brian took stock of the sight before him, his jaw dropping slightly. His eyes wandered over to Justin, brows raised quizzically – both to ask what happened and to assess whether the talk last night really happened.  
  
Justin mouthed a silent, “Hi” in his direction and managed a smile to let Brian know that they were alright. More than just alright. Locking eyes with his partner, Brian held his gaze for a moment longer. A part of Brian still hated the mornings after a big talk; not that they had many of those. But he always thought that he must feel awkward afterwards, laid bare somehow. But then the morning would actually arrive and Justin would always be the same old Justin, insufferable brat and all. And Brian would remember that with Justin things were never what Brian expected them to be. Justin let him know with one look that he wasn’t going to pick up last night’s topic for another discussion, but he was also going to hold Brian to his promise of trying to resume a normal working schedule. And there was one more thing that Justin communicated with his eyes, but that went without saying because it was always there, even during their worst fights – a silent message that told him  _we’re still a we_. Because he knew that Brian would never ask, but would always want to know, and from time to time even needed to be reminded again.  
  
Molly noticed the meaningful silence and glanced back and forth between her brother and her almost-brother-in-law. She had no idea what happened last night, but it must have been good because in the past few weeks there had been a hectic tension growing in Brian that had begun to influence them all, slowly but steadily becoming uncomfortable. This morning, however, all was relaxed and peaceful again and she smiled. She could feel that curious spark again, that little inexplicable something that connected Brian and Justin and that was so intense that even she as an outsider could perceive it. It had been missing lately. But as the two men stood there just gazing at each other, seemingly forgetting the floury mess around them and communicating apparently through eyes only, she relaxed again. They would do this sometimes – talk without words. She’d never tell them, but sometimes she envied them for what they had. She stared up at them for a couple more moments but they still only had eyes for each other. Eventually, Molly got bored and rolled her eyes. Most of the time, she amended to herself, she just thought them weird.  
  
As she watched them, Justin finally broke the connection and pulled his face into a grimace. With a last rueful smile, he took in his surroundings, Brian doing the same. Justin shrugged in resignation, his shoulders dropping.  
  
“What exploded?” Brian asked no one in particular but also not sounding stressed out a bit.  
  
“Boom,” Emma answered right on cue, showing off her vast knowledge of cartoons that Justin loved to watch so much.  
  
“Yep, that does seem to sum it up pretty nicely,” Molly injected.  
  
“Uhmm,” Brian said but didn’t know how to continue.  
  
“That’s what I said,” Justin supplied.  
  
Brian was about to set the by now completely awake Alex down, but she clutched at his upper arm and whimpered. “Diwty,” she said.  
  
“Right,” Brian muttered, remembering. He grabbed a kitchen towel slung over the backrest of a nearby chair and started dusting off the kitchen counter before inspecting it carefully and sitting Alex down on top of it. She hated getting dirty and looked skeptically around her, sitting perfectly still so as to not touch anything that was covered in flour. She pointed at her sister and said, her voice so accusing it conjured a smile on her parents’ faces, “Emma messy.”  
  
In response, Emma shook her head and offered the pack of sugar to Alex, holding it out in her general direction, “Wakfast.”  
  
“Yes, your sister made quite the mess,” Molly answered Alex’s statement, getting up from the floor and, dusting off her pajama bottoms, placed a good morning kiss on Alex’s cheek.  
  
“Mess,” Alex repeated after her.  
  
Brian was completely torn. On one hand he wanted to do the right parenty thing, but on the other he just wanted to give into his instinct and laugh at the whole situation. Emma was truly a sight to behold. The flour that covered her from head to toe made her look a little like a ghostly apparition. Whenever he didn’t know which instinct to follow, he turned the power of decision over to his partner. Brian closed the distance between them and while still keeping his eyes on Emma bent down slightly, whispering in the blond’s ear, “Laughing would be kinda counter-productive right now, correct?”  
  
“You expect me to know?” Justin not-quite-whispered back desperately. “Every time Mom told the story about the pancake batter that Molly managed to bathe herself with, I thought it was hilariously funny. I never thought about the mess it must have been.” Justin slung an arm around Brian’s middle and rested his forehead briefly on his shoulder before re-emerging with a decision on how to handle things. “Emma,” he hunkered down and addressed the girl, “look at the mess you created.” He waited till the girl took a look around.  
  
She blew her hair out of her face and caught the flour on her nose in the waft, which made her and Justin rub their eyes. Then she glanced up and around herself. As if just now noticing the state of the kitchen, she said, “Messy.” She sounded honestly surprised.  
  
Justin heard Brian suppress a chuckle beside him. “That’s an understatement,” the brunet muttered.  
  
Justin tried to elbow him good-naturedly but because of his crouching position only got Brian’s knee and, leaning forward and catching Emma’s attention, said, “Yes, it is very messy. And it was you who made the mess. But what’s more important: You could have hurt yourself. You must  _not_  go through cupboards when Daddy, me, or Molly are not there, understood?”  
  
She nodded solemnly, a little nonplussed at the serious tone but holding Justin’s stare. “Wakfast,” she said meekly, her sugar-induced enthusiasm somewhat dampened. She looked at Brian who now, too, was kneeling beside her.  
  
“You wanted breakfast?” he asked.  
  
She nodded.  
  
“Why didn’t you get me or Daddy?” Brian asked.  
  
“Daddy sweepy,” she replied.  
  
“I was asleep?” Justin asked back and received another nod in confirmation.  
  
Emma pressed a finger to her mouth and said, “Shhh.”  
  
Justin smiled in understanding. “I was asleep and you didn’t want to wake me?” he clarified. Another nod.  
  
“Well,” Brian said to Justin, also catching up, “we taught her to stay quiet when she woke before Alex. She thought it extended to all of us.” Turning back to Emma, Brian explained, “It’s okay to wake Daddy if you’re hungry, Princess.” He saw Molly raise her arm out of the corner of his eye. “Or Molly,” Brian added. “Next time, you get either me, Daddy, or Molly. Even if we’re asleep, you just shake and jiggle us till we wake up, okay?” She nodded again.  
  
“Alright.” Justin got to his feet and pulled Emma up into his arms, releasing an ‘Oomph’ in the process. She was getting heavy, Justin thought distractedly. “I’m going to take you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up and once we’re done we come back here and you can help Daddy and Auntie Molly clean up this chaos, alright? And then we’ll all have breakfast together.”  
  
“’kay,” Emma agreed and dared to smile again.  
  
Standing up too, Brian complained, “I get kitchen cleaning duty? Don’t I get a vote?”  
  
“You’re tall. You can reach those hard to get places and dust them off.” Justin grinned in triumph at having come up with such a logical explanation. But Brian saw right through him.  
  
“Sneaky,” Brian answered dryly, receiving another grin and a quick kiss in return.  
  
“Check us out,” Justin said, stopping in the door on his way out, “Dad and Dad, managing the first parenting crisis. Do we rock or what?”  
  
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he laughed. Sometimes Justin could be such a kid.  
  
Once Justin left with Emma, Brian and Molly vacuumed the kitchen floor and dusted off the surfaces while Alex watched.  
  
“It’s okay, you know,” Molly told Brian, crouching down in front of the closet where they kept the cleaning supplies, “I can do this on my own if you have to leave.”  
  
“Leave?”  
  
“For work?” Molly phrased it in a question, irritated that Brian didn’t seem to understand. Usually he just grabbed a piece of toast in passing while she and Justin and the girls were just sitting down for breakfast. She’d simply expected that today would be no different. Though, considering what she saw pass between her brother and Brian earlier, maybe things had changed.  
  
Brian waved her concerns away. “It’s okay. I’m not in a hurry today. I’d even offer to make pancakes if the stuff we’d need to make them wasn’t coating our kitchen floor.”  
  
“And if you knew how to actually make them,” Molly reminded him.  
  
“That too,” Brian agreed.  
  
They were quiet for a moment or two then Molly broke the silence again, not able to hold back any longer. “Goodness, does Justin’s cock have super-magical healing powers or something?”  
  
Brian, busy with brushing off the kitchen counter, smirked. “Thought you didn’t want to know about your brother’s nightly activities.”  
  
“I still don’t. So whatever you say, please respect my TMI threshold. It’s just that…” She paused, thinking how best to express it. “You just seem… changed somehow.”  
  
“If you say ‘older’, I’m gonna—”  
  
“No!” Molly interrupted. “I wasn’t gonna. Jeez, I’m not suicidal. Though I  _did_  think you’d be freaking out more about the big Four-O. Instead you look… Well, you look well-fu—” Mindful of her audience, she glanced behind her at Alex who kept watching them with rapt attention, and said, “…well-baked.” In Brian’s direction she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, making perfectly sure he would understand.  
  
Brian laughed out loud. “Ah, littlest Taylor, we don’t always f… bake when we’re in bed. Conversely,” he added, just to draw out the actual topic of discussion, “you don’t have to be in bed to – _bake_ –.”  
  
Molly rolled her eyes. “I know that. You may not realize it, but shower water drowns out only so much noise, you know. And just for the record: You won’t manage to distract me from my train of thought. You went out last night. I know Justin planned on taking you out to dinner, but who knows where you ended up after that.”  
  
“We ended up,” Brian mocked her good-naturedly, “where we started out. Here.”  
  
“Well, you’re boring then,” Molly concluded. “I’m sure New York has clubs that would put even Babylon to shame.”  
  
“You ever been to Babylon?” Brian exclaimed in surprise.  
  
“No,” Molly grumbled. “Mom wouldn’t allow me to go and I never had friends who would know where to get a fake ID. But I heard stories. And I do know what a backroom is.”  
  
“Your mother’s gonna think my influence ruined her good and innocent little girl, just like I ruined her sweet and innocent little boy.” Brian sighed and shook his head.  
  
“I wasn’t planning to touch on the subject of backrooms during our next Thanksgiving Dinner,” Molly gave back. “Give me some credit. Besides, she loves you. She gushes about you to her stuffy realtor friends. You’re the perfect, successful, influential, businessman son-in-law.” She smirked, giggled, and couldn’t help but add, “Who occasionally takes her sweet and innocent little boy to the backroom.”  
  
Brian threw a dishtowel he was using to wipe down the chairs at her. “Well, then she has even more reason to gush now. Because I don’t. Not anymore.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Brian shrugged. “We don’t frequent backrooms anymore,” he informed her. The meaning of it hung in the air and Molly stared at Brian’s back as he turned away and continued with his work.  
  
Eventually, after computing the information, Molly said, “Huh. I have been wondering about you two and how you managed to juggle two companies, three kids, who knows how many tricks, and Justin on top of it all.”  
  
“You could have asked,” Brian told her.  
  
“Ugh, God, no! Justin’s my brother. It’s one thing to wonder in passing, but it’s a completely different thing altogether to ask.” She paused and thought and exclaimed again, “Ugh. Gross! I suggest a change of topic,” she quickly and desperately added, shaking both her hands to get rid of unwanted mental images.  
  
“You started it.”  
  
“And now I’m closing it.” She breathed in and out once and thought of something else to talk about. “So, how come you’re not all queeny about the birthday and how come you’re still home at,” she glanced at the watch, “seven thirty in the morning and  _not_  have your phone attached to your ear?”  
  
Brian considered the question for a moment. “Well, Justin’s dick might not be magical, but he sure knows how to use his tongue.” At Molly’s disgusted and outraged face, he rushed to clarify, “And how to force me to listen.” Molly’s face showed relief as she understood.  
  
She nodded sympathetically. “Did you have to endure one of his lectures? He really gets off on those, doesn’t he?”  
  
“Hey!” Justin took offense to her last statement, having caught it from the hall as he and Emma came back.  
  
Molly was unfazed. “Well, you do. You’re almost worse than Mom.”  
  
Justin stuck out his tongue at her and, while she laughed, set down Emma. She was freshly changed and de-floured and Brian had her stack all the opened bags and wrappings of various other packages near the garbage can and helped her stack pots and pans onto the draining board near the sink. They’d all have to be washed later. While they were busy cleaning up the kitchen, Justin found some ingredients Emma had not yet gotten her hands on and, giving into Molly’s pleas, prepared a batter, making waffles.  
  
Half an hour later, while Emma and Alex were happily drowning their waffles in syrup, the three of them – Molly, Brian, and Justin – were already able to laugh about the whole incident and Molly made plans to tell her mother when she called the next time, in hopes that this morning’s events would replace the seemingly endlessly funny tale of baby Molly with pancake batter in her hair.  
  
“You can tell her in person,” Justin said around a mouthful of waffle.  
  
Molly and Brian both stared at him funny.  
  
“I just thought maybe we could find a weekend sometime soon to go home for a visit?” Justin suggested with a sheepish grin after swallowing. A bit apprehensive at the sudden attention, he looked back and forth between his sister and Brian.  
  
“Oh, god,” Molly breathed in relief. “For a moment there I thought Mom was coming here to visit. Sheesh, thanks for scaring the jeepers out of me,” she added accusingly.  
  
“Yeah, Sunshine,” Brian added with an amused grin, “next time, lead in with the relevant information.”  
  
“What are  _you_  complaining about?” Justin asked in Brian’s direction. “You like your in-laws, remember?”  
  
“I know. I was affronted on Molly’s behalf, for solidarity’s sake,” Brian answered and winked in Molly’s direction with a conspiratorial grin.  
  
Molly leaned over to him and blew him a kiss, a gesture that was quickly picked up by Emma. Only hers were spiced with bits of flying waffle which made everyone at the table laugh before turning serious again and telling Emma, as sternly as possible in the situation, that she wasn’t supposed to do it with her mouth full.  
  
Justin wet a napkin and went about wiping Emma’s face and hands as he said, “Gosh, Molly. You’re making it sound like Mom is the worst visitor to have around.”  
  
“Well, she is,” Molly gave back. “You’re lucky she doesn’t pester  _you_. But with me it’s always, what will you do after college? Do you know already where you will go afterwards? Do you want to come back home? What about your boyfriend? You think he’s the right one this time? God, I’m only twenty years old and she’s already trying to marry me off. Just because you knew whom you were going to end up with at age seventeen, doesn’t mean I have to.”  
  
When Molly finished with her rant, there was a momentary silence in the room and then Brian burst out laughing. Justin joined him a second later.  
  
“Seriously,” Molly talked over their merriment, a bit peeved at being laughed at. “I mean,” she looked at Brian, “you fu—” and with a glance at the girls quickly corrected herself, “fooled around a lot before you became all domesticated, right?” Brian’s laughter suddenly died down at that, but Molly didn’t seem to notice and she continued unperturbed. “I want to live a little too before I settle down and live a life of boring routine,” she stated. That last bit made Brian glare at her and she stared back at Brian unmoving which Justin watched in silence for a second, eyes again darting back and forth between his sister and his partner, just like they did before. Eventually he simply broke out in another roar of laughter, not being able to hold it in anymore. Brian was so busy glaring at Molly and Molly was so busy staring back and pouting, neither realized what complete nonsense his sister was spouting.  
  
“Take that back,” Brian hissed dangerously through squinted eyes while Justin’s laughter died down a bit. Brian ignored him, so Justin simply continued to watch, amused.  
  
“About you being boring? I think it’s a well-established fact, so no,” his sister answered calmly, a challenging look in her eyes. Brian tried his best intimidating look in response. “You don’t scare me,” Molly replied coolly with one eyebrow raised. “I’ve seen your soft and fluffy side, mister. And I gotta tell you, once you’ve revealed it, you’re not that intimidating anymore,” she explained. “Plus, I’m not sixteen anymore and thus no longer controlled by my hormones and crushing on you.”  
  
Brian was stupefied for a moment and Justin laid a consoling hand on his shoulder which was still shaking from suppressed laughter and Brian shrugged it off in annoyance. Justin tried harder not to laugh. Brian broke the staring contest with Molly and instead fixed Justin. Not that he had any reason to be glaring at him, but Justin realized it for the desperate act that it was. After not being able to retain the upper hand on Molly, he had to gain the higher ground with him; or anyone really. Too bad Justin could read in Brian’s eyes like in an open book. Releasing a grumble of pure frustration, Brian bristled and turned to his food, giving his egg whites a good push with the fork. Justin leaned over and kissed his forehead while stroking a hand across his head, like he would do with one of his daughters when they needed a comforting touch. Only Justin did it with a much more dramatic flair which gained him another silent stare from Brian that he waved away with another laugh.  
  
Molly quietly watched their interaction, irritated and slightly annoyed. They were doing this thing again – communicating without talking. In a moment they would start fucking each other with their eyes and she definitely didn’t want to be around for that. Before anything could happen, she huffed, “God, you people are weird.”  
  
“We people?” Justin asked through the residual bits of chuckle, wondering what she was referring to.  
  
“You know,” she explained with fading patience, “couples.” She stood up, picking up her and the girls’ dishes and depositing them in the sink. Taking each girl by the hand, she left the kitchen with them, saying, “Come on, girls. Your daddies are silly. Let’s go get dressed while they calm down again.” Directing a pointed stare at Brian, she added, “And  _bake_.” With that, she left the two of them alone, closing the door emphatically on her way out.  
  
“What was that all about?” Justin asked Brian when they were alone.  
  
But Brian waved it away, saying, “It’s this craziness that runs in the Taylor genes. If you ask me, it’s not us who’s weird, it’s all you.”  
  
Justin nodded mock-seriously and couldn’t help tease him some more because Brian was still moping about being called domestic and boring. “If it helps,” he said, “I still find you scary. In fact, you make me tremble on a regular basis.” He tried to say it with a straight face but couldn’t suppress a few chuckles from tumbling out.  
  
Brian tried his death-glare again. But Justin refused to even act intimidated and just shrugged. Brian groaned and let his head fall onto his crossed arms.  
  
“I am domesticated, Sunshine,” Brian sobbed dramatically. “I’m a family man. I have set up trust funds for my children. I have children!” Brian cried out, emphasizing the plural.  
  
Justin answered dryly, “It does sound terrible. My sincerest condolences.” He watched for a moment as his partner’s shoulders heaved in exaggerated sorrow. Justin didn’t bother hide his amusement or the fact that his compassion for Brian’s mostly acted distress was limited. He knew that no matter how it looked to outsiders at times and no matter many houses Brian bought or how many children they decided to have, he couldn’t imagine to ever think of Brian as domesticated or boring. Brian was still as complicated and sharp-edged as the day he met him. The only thing that had changed, really, was the fact that Brian wasn’t fighting against the love he received from Justin or their family anymore and that he was admitting to having the same feelings in return; occasionally even using words to do so.  
  
Justin rose to his feet and stood behind Brian’s chair. He pressed his chest against Brian’s back as best as he could with the chair’s wire backrest in between them, and let his hands roam to the brunet’s side, looking for the seam of the T-shirt Brian was wearing. Slipping underneath, he caressed Brian’s warm skin along the rim of the pajama bottoms and softly bit into the side of Brian’s neck.  
  
“Brian, are you bored?” he asked quietly, breath washing over Brian’s ear.  
  
“What?” came the muffled reply.  
  
“Answer the question,” Justin insisted. “Since we’ve met – have you ever been bored?”  
  
Brian’s shoulders rose slightly which pushed his upper body further into Justin’s chest. While Justin continued to nuzzle his neck, Brian thought about the last years. Well, there was this time when Michael accused him of being boring, around the time where Brian used to watch black and white movies a lot, using them to not think about what it was that the fiddler and Justin might have been doing the same moment, but he thought that particular period wasn’t covered by Justin’s inquiry. He grunted a reply.  
  
“What was that?” Justin asked with an amused undertone audible in his voice.  
  
“Stop asking me stupid questions you know the answers to,” Brian grunted back evasively and produced another chuckle out of Justin. The released breath of it made the hairs at the back of Brian’s neck rise deliciously.  
  
“Good. Cause I don’t remember a day that wasn’t new and exciting in some way either.” That was not completely true. Justin  _could_  remember a time at Daphne’s when he spent almost half a day trying to blow spit bubbles. He didn’t mention it, though. And besides, it would only prove his point. “Seriously,” he continued, “if it gets any more exciting, I might suffer a stroke.” He tried to joke but it only produced a roll of eyes from Brian which he threw at Justin over his shoulder. “Besides,” Justin reasoned, “I’m sure she doesn’t realize that since she’s living with us and sharing our responsibilities, she’s by definition just as boring.” That seemed to lighten Brian’s mood.  
  
“How long do you think it will take her to realize that?”  
  
A grin broke out on Justin’s face. “I think you can get out at least a week of hints and insinuations until it dawns on her.” He glanced at the clock to gauge how long they had left until Molly had to leave for her first class and he’d need to take over watching the girls. “In the meantime may I remind you that you refused to go to the bathroom with me last night?” Justin let his voice trail off at the end.  
  
Brian looked at him for exactly two seconds before falling over the blond, attacking his mouth hungrily. He pushed his tongue into the welcoming cavern, the need to taste drowning out any sense of finesse.  
  
Justin reached for Brian’s sweatpants, untying the cord and was about to push the fabric down when Brian stopped his hands. He held his wrists in a tight grip and maneuvered them roughly towards the wall beside the fridge. Brian slammed Justin’s back into the concrete, holding up his hands above the blond’s head with one arm, while the other jerked away the material covering his partner’s groin. Brian pushed his hand under the soft fabric, pushing away every barrier until he reached Justin’s cock and started to jerk it roughly. With a hand splayed on Justin’s stomach, he lowered himself to his knees and mouthed the head.  
  
Brian’s tongue swiveled around the swelling tip of Justin’s dick and he continued to pump it furiously, desperate for a taste of his lover.  
  
Justin almost blacked out from the assault on his senses and grabbed the edge of the fridge for support. Brian was not slowing down and seemed intent on setting a new world record in a discipline he was already the reigning master in: How to make Justin Taylor come in under two minutes.  
  
Justin glanced down his body, and seeing his dick halfway in Brian’s mouth made him moan loudly and release a drop of precum which Brian lapped up immediately. Justin watched as Brian pumped more of the crystal clear liquid out of his dick, his eyes threatening to roll back every time he saw a drop of it on Brian’s tongue.  
  
“Stop!” Justin managed to press out. Brian immediately let up and looked up in the blond’s face. Justin had to take a few breaths, before he was able to explain. “No, don’t stop sucking me. Stop jerking yourself off.”  
  
Justin looked down Brian’s body, his eyes resting on Brian’s dick, his hand wrapped around it, though it had stilled for now.  
  
“I wanna taste you,” Justin added as an explanation.  
  
“Oh, you will,” Brian answered, enveloping Justin’s hardness with his lips again. Feeling Brian’s hot mouth on his wet and slightly cooled cock head made Justin’s eyes roll back in their sockets again and he let out another moan. Through the haze of his emotions he noticed, however, that Brian wasn’t jerking himself as rapidly as before.  
  
Only a minute later, Justin came forcefully. His knees buckled at the release and he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. Brian let him slide down the wall, carefully making sure he didn’t hurt himself on his way down. Once Justin was kneeling beside Brian, the brunet threaded his fingers into the blond strands and pushed Justin’s head deeper. When it was level with his cock, Brian dragged the tip across Justin’s full lips. Justin instinctively opened his mouth, ready to receive Brian’s dick but it never came. He opened his eyes, gazing up at Brian.  
  
The brunet watched mesmerized as the droplets of precum that had gathered on his tip, painted patterns across Justin’s lips and cheek when he rubbed his cock on him. Suddenly struck by an idea, he whispered huskily, “Keep ‘em open.”  
  
Justin wasn’t sure if Brian had meant he should keep his eyes or his lips open, but wasn’t about to close either. He watched as Brian picked up the pace of his movements, his eyes focused on Justin’s face. Justin, in turn, couldn’t keep his eyes from Brian’s cock that slipped in and out of Brian’s quickly moving fist. The brunet’s hand stilled suddenly, squeezing the tip of his own cock and a second later Justin felt the first stream of cum hit his cheek, accompanied by a low growl from Brian. Another rope landed directly on his tongue, followed by one that streaked his face squarely. Brian moved his fist again, forcing the remnants of his orgasm out and onto Justin’s waiting tongue. Once he’d spent himself completely, Justin rose on his knees and allowed Brian to clean him up.  
  
Brian gathered the stray drops of cum with his tongue, pushing it into Justin’s panting mouth.  
  
A few minutes later, when they had both stilled and Justin had his arms wrapped around Brian, he whispered, “Turning forty certainly hasn’t diminished your appetite.”  
  
Brian grumbled at being reminded of his age again and retaliated with a tickling attack. He didn’t let up till Justin was squealing and begging for mercy. Eventually Brian slapped his butt and helped him up, saying, “To recompense for your insolence towards the frail and elderly,” Brian groaned and held his back for effect, “you get to do the dishes while I go get dressed.”  
  


❖❖❖

  
After putting the dishes into the dishwasher and cleaning up the last vestiges of the mess Emma had made earlier, Justin walked back to their bedroom to take a shower himself. When he entered the bedroom, Brian stood naked in front of the closet, measuring shirts against suits to choose the best ensemble. Even though Justin’s cock stirred at the sight, he forced himself not to act on his impulses. If Brian was going to come home at a decent hour, he needed to leave the house at some point as well. So he simply stroked a palm down Brian’s exposed spine and stood on his tiptoes to kiss the back of Brian’s neck.  
  
“See you later tonight,” Justin murmured. He was about to disappear through the door leading to the bathroom when Brian grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a long kiss.  
  
“Later,” he mumbled against Justin’s lips.  
  
Before he stepped into the shower, Justin caught a reflection of himself, wearing a silly grin, in the mirror. His appointment with Arianna wasn’t for another two hours, so he took his time under the spray. When he came out of the bathroom, he was surprised to find Brian still there, getting dressed after his own shower. “You’re still here? Aren’t you running a bit late?” Justin asked.  
  
Brian saw him glance at the clock on the wall and said, “You do know that I don’t have an office where I’m expected to walk in through the door at a specific time, right?”  
  
“I know,” Justin replied. “But I’ve read that if you’re self-employed, it’s important to have the same work day routine every day. It helps with the mindset and that’s the biggest part of it, you know.”  
  
Brian stepped closer and pressed a kiss to Justin’s forehead, simultaneously ruffling his hair. “In addition to being my personal cheerleader, you’re also my very own Public Service Announcement. I’ll graciously overlook the fact that you seem overly ambitious to kick me out the door today,” he added.  
  
Justin stuck his tongue out at him. “Look at it this way – the sooner you build up Kinnetik NY, the sooner you can floor New York with your talent, the sooner we get to go home again.” Justin smiled at Brian, using his partner’s logic against him.  
  
“Do you want to go back home?” Brian asked, becoming serious. Kinnetik New York was important to him, but the times where he put business above everything else were over now.  
  
Justin thought about the question for a minute. “Eventually, yes. But not yet. New York’s exciting, Brian. And we’ve never lived in this city at the same time. I want to enjoy it and everything it has to offer. I want to drag you to every museum and exhibition I read about. I want to do the touristy things and go sightseeing with you. I want to go up to the top of the Statue of Liberty with you and see you eat a hamburger,” Justin said with a devilish grin.  
  
“Never gonna happen,” Brian inserted.  
  
Justin paused, looking as though he might argue the point, but then let it go and continued, “And I want you to succeed here because I know you’ve wanted to since you started working in advertising. So let’s do that – become huge fucking successes. And  _then_  I want to go home.”  
  
There was a short silence after Justin finished where Brian didn’t know how to respond, as he usually did when Justin became an emotional twat. So he said, “I will go to the galleries and exhibitions with you. But all those touristy things? You can do them with Gus.”  
  
“Oh, that reminds me,” Justin said, “Do you think you can leave here for a weekend?”  
  
“How does going sightseeing with Gus remind you of…”  
  
Justin talked right over him. “An extended weekend maybe even? You think that’s doable?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“So we can go to Britin. I think it’ll be good for Alex and Emma too, to see that the house and their home is still there.”  
  
“What about your project?” Brian asked, referring to the mural he was hired to do for a museum of contemporary modern art that was still under construction. “I thought the schedule was too tight as it is. Won’t it be a throwback if you leave for an extended weekend?”  
  
“The window for the actual painting part is small, that’s true. But that’s why it’s important that I do all the preliminary work and design planning beforehand. And I can do that from anywhere. Ari and I get to see the premises tomorrow. We have an appointment with the museum’s curator and the interior designer,” Justin answered.  
  
“Alright then,” Brian relented, “maybe if I take my laptop with me.”  
  
Justin smiled a huge smile.  
  
“What weekend did you have in mind?”  
  
“I’ll have to check with Molly but if it’s all the same for her, I thought maybe as soon as next week?” Justin asked with an eyebrow raised and Brian suspected he had ulterior motives for rushing it. He wouldn’t put it past the blond to cook up something behind his back.  
  
“That  _is_  soon,” Brian said in slight surprise. “Is there a reason for the sudden decision?”  
  
“No. No reason,” Justin answered innocently and that was when Brian  _knew_  there was something Justin was not telling him. He decided to let it go for now.  
  
“Well, okay. Book something and let me know,” Brian agreed as he slipped into his coat and as an afterthought slung a wool scarf across his neck. Before leaving for work, he asked, “What are your plans for today?”  
  
“Hmm. The usual – break into federal maximum security computers, empty their state accounts. Nothing out of the ordinary.”  
  
“Okay then,” Brian gave back. “Try not to get caught.” He leaned down and kissed Justin goodbye.  
  
Justin smiled. “You should call Lindsay,” he reminded Brian.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Gus has a long weekend next week too. Maybe he wants to come to Pittsburgh as well?”  
  
“Ahh,” Brian answered, understanding. “So that’s why the hurry.”  
  
Justin grinned and shrugged in response.  
  
Making his way downstairs, Brian thought about Justin’s suggestion. He hadn’t seen his son since Christmas and Justin was right – it would be nice to have all the kids together in Britin again. He’d definitely give Lindsay a call. It was about time he checked up on how things were going for her and Mel anyway.  
  
Ever since she announced during her stay for the Christmas holidays that she was going to leave Mel and move back to Pittsburgh, Brian was very careful when he talked to her on the phone. He didn’t want to bring up the topic for fear she’d tell him that she’d changed her mind. That one phone call where he had to tell her he and Justin and the kids were moving to New York for an unknown period of time had put additional strain on their frazzled friendship.  
  


❖❖❖

  
A few months earlier, February 2011

  
**-Britin-**   
  


Brian paced his study, listening to the dial tone at the end of the line. Eventually he heard the click and Melanie’s voice rang through the speaker.  
  
“Yes?” Her tone was clipped and Brian wondered if it was because she had seen his number on the display and knew it was him or whether something else was going on there.  
  
“It’s Brian. Is Lindsay there? I need to talk to her.”  
  
“Yes, she’s here.  _Yet_.” She gritted out the last word and Brian knew for certain that he was the reason for her stellar mood.  
  
“Don’t start, Mel,” he warned her, not in the mood for a fight through a phone.  
  
“It was  _you_  who started it,” she spit out venomously. “Why did you have to butt in where you don’t belong? We were perfectly fine before you had to go and put crazy ideas in her head.”  
  
Brian tried to keep his feelings in check but could just watch helplessly as his voice took on a life of its own. “You haven’t been  _perfectly fine_  for a very long time,” he sneered her words back at her. “And if you’d bothered to look at the reality of the situation every once in a while instead of pretending everything was  _perfectly fine_ , you would have known that. I didn’t plant any ideas in her head. In fact, I didn’t say anything at all. I listened. Have you tried that lately?”  
  
“Oh, save it, Kinney,” she shot back. “You will not be the one to lecture me on how to manage a relationship. That’ll be the day!”  
  
“Mel?” Brian heard faintly in the background, followed by rustling noises until eventually Lindsay came on the line.  
  
“Brian?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah. Is everything okay?”  
  
“Yes, everything is alright. Mel and I… it’s complicated.”  
  
“I bet.”  
  
“The month is up,” Lindsay added cryptically.  
  
“What month? I don’t understand.” Brian furrowed his brow.  
  
“When, after the holidays, I told her I want to go back to Pittsburgh and take Gus with me, she suggested I take a month to think about it. And we agreed not to talk about the issue for the time being. I guess she thought a month would be enough time for me to change my mind. And it was nice this whole time; we got along really well. I guess we both tried really hard. But now the month is up and… things are worse again.”  
  
“Why?” Brian demanded to know.  
  
“Because I still want to leave,” Lindsay answered simply and Brian released a breath he was holding.  
  
“Does Gus know?”  
  
“Yes. I told him a couple of days ago. Asked him how he’d like to live in Pittsburgh again.”  
  
“What’d he say?”  
  
Lindsay laughed. “He’s ecstatic, what do you think. He already started packing his things. I told him he had to finish his school year first, but you try talking him out of it.”  
  
“I bet Mel loved that,” Brian replied. He didn’t say it to gloat; he simply realized that he, surprisingly, understood Melanie’s feelings to some extent. What if it was his family he had to watch break apart? Justin taking the kids and moving to another place, another country? He shivered at the thought and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to chase the thought away as well as the sudden surge of sympathy for Mel.  
  
“Yeah, it definitely doesn’t help matters,” Lindsay admitted.  
  
They were quiet for a while, listening to the static over the line.  
  
“Was there a reason for your call?” Lindsay asked eventually.  
  
“Yes,” Brian said and rubbed his chin. He’d gone over this conversation a million times in his head already, and once with Justin. He carefully laid out a strategy of how and what exactly he would tell her and had arguments ready for any replies she may have. However, as he was faced with the situation right then, he felt every planned sentence fly out his mind. Alright then, Brian thought, he would improvise. “Listen, Lindsay, Kinnetik is expanding. We’re finally ready to open a New York branch.”  
  
“Wow, Brian, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!” she answered sincerely.  
  
“That’s not all. Justin was asked to paint a mural for the lobby of the new Contemporary Modern Art Museum.”  
  
Lindsay was stunned out of her words and Brian could almost hear her jaw drop open over the line. He waited for her to recover before he started in on the bad news. Well, it remained yet to be seen, how bad.  
  
“That… that’s… really…” Lindsay stammered. She laughed a strange a laugh and Brian’s heart clenched a little for her. He knew what she was feeling. It was joy and pride for Justin, but mixed in there was also a little bit of envy and a hint of sadness. Brian didn’t resent her for it. She was going through a tough time and it would be hard on anybody to celebrate someone else’s achievements while their own life was spiraling steadily downwards. Eventually though, she said, “I’m so proud of him, tell him that, will you? I’m proud of both of you,” the happiness winning out.  
  
“Thank you,” Brian answered.  
  
After a moment’s pause, Lindsay asked, sensing Brian wasn’t finished, “There’s more?”  
  
Brian, deciding not to draw it out unnecessarily, blurted out, “We’re moving to New York.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
Brian hurried to explain, “Not for good. Just for the next couple of months. Half a year, maybe.” Brian deliberately chose the shortest possible estimate, hoping to keep things civil. “I need to oversee the Kinnetik startup in New York and Justin will have to paint non-stop to get the mural finished on time.”  
  
“When are you leaving?” Lindsay asked one of the many questions that were running through her head.  
  
“In a couple of weeks,” Brian answered.  
  
Brian could practically hear her doing the math. “You won’t be there,” she finally muttered. “I told Gus we’re going back to Pittsburgh so he could be close to you again, and you won’t be there.”  
  
“Well, Justin had this idea…” Brian began but halted to gauge Lindsay’s attention.  
  
“Yes?” she prompted.  
  
“You’ll move back during the summer break, right? And you’ll probably be busy getting your things in order, correct? There must be some paperwork involved.”  
  
“Probably,” Lindsay agreed.  
  
“What if we take Gus for the summer? He can come and stay with us for the entire break if he wants.”  
  
“I don’t know, Brian.” Lindsay was unsure. “I don’t want to not see Gus his entire break.”  
  
“Of course you’d see him, Lindsay. We’ll be in Pittsburgh every other weekend. We can work out a schedule that suits us all.”  
  
“I have to think about it,” Lindsay said. After a pause, she added, “This is really bad timing, Brian.”  
  
Brian didn’t say anything. He already knew that. He also knew in Lindsay’s vulnerable state he had to tread carefully not to say the wrong thing. Her decision to come back was still just a decision. Until she and Gus were back in Pittsburgh for good, he wouldn’t allow himself to get his hopes up too high.  
  
“Lindsay, it’s gonna be alright,” Brian only said.  
  
“I hope so,” Lindsay replied.  
  
The atmosphere was awkward after that and after a few pleasantries, they eventually said their goodbyes and disconnected the call.  
  
Brian didn’t dare call again after that; he didn’t want to make the situation worse for Lindsay and Mel. But he had to talk to Gus, so he waited for the time window where he knew he’d be back from school and Lindsay would still be at work.  
  
“What do you want?” Mel’s voice answered his call.  
  
“To talk to Gus,” Brian didn’t bother with greetings either. He knew things between him and Mel were non-mendable.  
  
“Is it time for your annual fatherly gesture already?”  
  
Brian sighed. He didn’t want to cater to her provocation. “Get my son on the phone, please?”  
  
“He’s not  _your_  son, asshole.”  
  
“Mel, I don’t want to get into this,” Brian tried to be civil.  
  
“Of course you don’t. You never let yourself be pulled into anything, right? The moment you hear  _your_  son is coming back to live in the same city as you again, you flee the state. What a shining example of a parent you are!”  
  
Brian didn’t bother explaining the circumstances of their move to New York to her and demanded again to talk to Gus. She called him to the phone eventually.  
  
They talked for a while about school and girls, and his and Lindsay’s moving plans which prompted Brian to divulge his and Justin’s move to New York. Gus took it remarkably well. Remembering New York from a few earlier visits, he was excited to go there again. Brian didn’t suggest he stay the summer with them because he still didn’t know if it would be alright with Lindsay. But he did promise him that they’d see each other often, despite living in different cities.  
  
“I know, Dad. It’s okay. You’re not going to stay there forever, right?”  
  
“Right. Only as long as necessary. And then we’ll all be back in Britin again.”  
  
“Cool,” Gus said.  
  
“Gus, you know that Momma Mel and JR won’t be moving with you, right?”  
  
“Yeah, I know. It’s gonna be weird not to see JR every day. She’s annoying as hell, you know?” Brian smirked but didn’t correct Gus’ language. He didn’t mind Gus using words like fuck or hell. It’d be hypocritical of him if he did. “But she’s my little sister,” Gus continued, “I think I’m gonna miss her.”  
  
Brian nodded, forgetting that Gus couldn’t see him. “Gus, do me a favor?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Don’t be so hard on your Momma Mel, alright?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Gus didn’t understand.  
  
“Your Ma told me you already started packing your shit. Don’t act so excited about the move when Momma Mel is around, okay? It’s hard on her too to lose you, you know.”  
  
Gus thought about it. It hadn’t occurred to him before how his actions would be interpreted by his other Mom. “Okay. I’m sorry, Dad.”  
  
“Don’t be,” Brian replied. “Just don’t throw it in her face and everything’s gonna be fine.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
They talked some more about things they were going to be able to do in New York and in Britin. Gus asked about the twins and Justin and told Brian to give each of them a hug from him and made Brian swear on his life to deliver. After a few minutes, they ended the call and Brian breathed a little easier.


	3. Chapter 3

Present, May 2011

  
  
**-New York City-**

  
Justin and Arianna walked through the construction site, following the interior designer who regularly reminded them to watch their steps. The building had been stripped bare to its raw walls, leaving bricks and beams exposed. Everywhere around them the construction crew was busy applying mortar to the walls, or painting already finished rooms, or drilling holes, while a whole squad of electricians was running cables or installing electrical sockets. The noise, while not deafening was certainly distracting, but the bustling activity was at the same time strangely inspiring. Justin couldn’t imagine that these raw and crude walls would carry the works of artists from all over the world in only six months’ time. For a very short moment, Justin felt a pang of jealousy that he wouldn’t be one of them. But then he remembered that his mural would be the first thing each and every visitor would see upon entering the building and the thought made him grin. A mural wouldn’t be replaced after only a period of exposition. It would be there for at least a couple of decades. At least so he hoped.  
  
The interior designer made a round through the whole building, which was huge, and they came back to the starting point of their journey – the lobby. Eventually the entire building’s outer walls would get a cladding of a frameless all glass wall system, adding to the airy feeling of the structure, but also making Justin’s mural visible to every passerby. The designer pointed at the wall opposite from the entrance. This was where Justin’s backdrop mural would go. Right now though, the wall was hidden behind a huge scaffolding. As they stood gazing at the massive space, they were joined by another woman. She couldn’t have been older than forty, but her clothes (calf-long pencil skirt and frilly blouse) and hair (pulled back in a tight bun that showed the first streaks of gray) were of the sort that Justin would have expected to see on a much older person. The impression was only amplified by the facial expression – a stern and somewhat disgusted look that made her perk her lips in distaste, making the lines around her mouth more pronounced, and squint through slitted eyes and over artfully stylish reading glasses that were perched on top of the pointy nose.  
  
The curator, Justin guessed correctly; a suspicion that was confirmed a second later when the lady introduced herself. “Annabelle Ashewaldt,” she said without preamble and then looked at the clipboard in her arm. “And you’re… Justin Taylor,” she read before looking up and extending a hand for him to take. Justin barely refrained from rolling his eyes and instead decided he didn’t like her, to put it mildly. She completely ignored Arianna, even after Arianna gave a polite cough to get her attention. Miss Annabelle Ashewaldt continued to ignore her.  
  
The interior designer that had shown them around excused herself, shaking both Justin’s and Arianna’s hands in parting and Justin saw her suppress a small grin and an eye roll. He grinned back conspiratorially when he said his goodbyes and returned his attention to Miss Ashewaldt.  
  
“The wall chemists are applying a very mild acid to the wall as we speak. This is done to prolong durability and help with moisture absorbency from the paints you will be using. But you have to take into account that this final coating can also, in time – we’re talking about a time frame of several years of course – water down the brightness of the colors used. The varnishing coat will act as a seal and add a UV protection to the finished product. It will be applied by the same chemists that are at work now. Hopefully the varnish will counteract the fading induced by the acid. I say hopefully because we are working with a fairly new ground coating and plaster type. It’s infinitely finer than the usual plaster used for plastering walls. After a drying period it will resemble a canvas in texture, without the elasticity of one, of course. Your painting will be applied directly on it. We have prepared several model pieces for you to practice on, to get a feel for it. You will find that paint dispersion is quite different when painting on a wall in contrast to painting on a canvas.”  
  
Justin cringed inwardly at the dictatorial tone of the snobby woman and exchanged appropriate looks with Arianna. She smiled and scrunched up her nose, pulling a face behind the unsuspecting woman.  
  
“You will use special acrylic mural paint,” the museum’s curator continued unperturbed, “samples of which you will also be provided with. Are you familiar with this medium?”  
  
Was she for real? Justin wondered. The woman must be a total idiot, he decided. “My preferred choice are oils, but all my large-scale paintings are done in acrylic, yes. I’m quite familiar with it,” he managed to reply politely, disbelievingly shaking his head at the question the moment the woman glanced away.  
  
“Very well. Then I suggest we pick up the models for your practice works and go over the timetable one more time.”  
  
Justin almost groaned. They’d gone over the timetable in the emails already. And then again with the interior designer while walking through the building. The opening was scheduled for September. His wall would be ready and the section partitioned off from the outsiders’ eyes about three to four weeks before that, which gave Justin roughly this time period to bring his ideas to life. He’d already received dimensions of the requested mural and Arianna took care of negotiating the theme and color schemes he’d be using. So far, everything was going according to plan and Justin’s fingers itched to start working on the project.  
  
“You’ll be given an access pass and you’re free to visit the construction site whenever you feel like it. I suggest to come at various day and night times to observe the change of natural light,” the oblivious woman advised while walking over to the makeshift offices.  
  
Justin actually released a groan at that which was thankfully drowned by the construction noise around them. He was an artist, for fuck’s sake. He knew all about the importance of light! He tried to keep calm though. He knew the woman was just another one of those who judged him by his looks. He was pretty, which, in this case, did not play to his advantage. And he knew he was young, and looking even younger. Being successful at 28 was something people usually looked down upon with suspicion and the fact wasn’t helped any by him looking barely over 20. Add Arianna to the mix who was the same age as him and looked stunning in simple blue jeans and a white fitted tee, fiery red hair pulled up into a playful ponytail, and the picture of spoiled, opportunistic, rich brats who got by on their looks alone was complete.  
  
“Arianna will need a pass too,” Justin said to the older woman. She looked questioningly at him in response. Justin motioned towards Ari and introduced, “Arianna McCallum, my agent and manager.” The introduction only resulted in a tight little acknowledging nod on Miss Ashewaldt’s part. Justin explained, “I work without an assistant. If I’ll need something, she’ll be the one to get it; so she’ll need an access pass, too.” His voice barred no further argument and he refrained from smiling triumphantly when the woman gave another reluctant short nod.  
  
This was so exciting. Justin couldn’t wait to gush about the whole project to Brian. After picking up the samples and loading them into Ari’s rented SUV, he and Arianna said their goodbyes, Arianna assuring that she’d stop by tomorrow to pick up their access passes, before they finally left for Justin’s soon to be studio.  
  
Since the apartment didn’t have enough room for him to set up a studio in, Brian had insisted on renting a studio place not far from their building. Justin thought it redundant since Kinnetik NY’s premises would be ready for furnishing soon and he could set up shop there. The former museum had more than enough space. So much, in fact, that Brian had decided to rent some of it out to other artists. But Brian thought that Justin shouldn’t be deprived of a working space during the transitional period. They had agreed on a compromise: Brian had rented a place, but only for the first two months. After that, Justin would be ‘moving’ into the KinNY building. And that’s where they were headed for now, since the lease on Justin’s studio space would be running out shortly and the concrete blocks that were posing as samples were too heavy to move a second time in a couple of weeks’ time.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Brian was trying hard to concentrate on the papers in front of him and ignoring the noise the workers were making. He glanced at his kids who were lounging on a couch in a corner of the room, Emma painting something, Alex trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle. How they managed to blot out the noise, Brian would never understand.  
  
“Motherfuckin’ piece of shit!” Brian heard one of the workers exclaim.  
  
“Hey!” He called towards the guy. “Watch your mouth. There are kids here.”  
  
The man looked up at Brian’s reproof and glanced towards the children too before answering, “I’m sorry, Sir. Won’t happen again.”  
  
Brian nodded, excusing the poor sap. He and four of his colleagues had been fighting all day with the retractable walls Brian wanted installed around the main area of the ground floor. The layout of the building was an open floor plan with mezzanine walls and Brian wanted to keep it that way. However, for private meetings, they needed an insular space. The idea was that this separate space could be quickly created by retracting frosted glass walls around the octagonal area in the middle. Easier said than done, as it seemed, because the guys were running out of time and the installed dividers still weren’t meeting edge to edge when pulled out. Brian had given them until tonight to fix the problem and they were already working over hours to meet the deadline. The adjustment wasn’t going according to plan.  
  
Brian would have happily gone home, where the noise level was considerably lower, unless he pulled out his and Justin’s toy chest; but that kind of noise was of a very different variety, and very welcome. Whereas the constant rapping, drilling, and hammering as well as swearing was grating on his nerves. However, for one thing, he found that work was being done far more effectively when he was there to oversee it, and for another, he’d agreed to meet Justin here after his appointment at the construction site of the museum. Brian took a second to chuckle at how similar his and Justin’s lives were at the moment – both spent a lot of time at construction sites, both construction sites were museums.  
  
Brian looked at his watch, wondering where Justin was. As soon as he finished the thought, he heard Justin’s voice calling out from the entrance area of the building.  
  
“Brian?”  
  
“Turn left,” Brian answered and seconds later was greeted by a smiling and excited blond. Arianna followed close behind him and he greeted her with a smile. Looking Justin over, he said, “Your appointment must have gone well.”  
  
Justin threw a smile at Brian and went over to the corner where Alex and Emma were playing. He greeted each girl with a hug before turning his attention back to his partner. He couldn’t help but almost jump with excitement as he answered Brian’s question. “Naw, the chief curator who gave us a rundown of the mural they are expecting is a bitch.”  
  
Brian raised an eyebrow in question. “Doesn’t matter,” Justin continued. “This place is so great. I cannot wait to start. They gave me these concrete models to practice painting on. Which reminds me, we need help getting them inside. They’re fucking heavy.”  
  
Justin looked for Arianna and blinked when he spotted her already talking to one of the workers while twirling a wayward lock of her hair around a finger, looking the perfect picture of naïve and helpless. He and Brian watched as two of the burlier guys nodded enthusiastically and followed her outside. Brian chuckled and so did Justin. “I guess the issue is taken care of,” Brian said.  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
“She’s good,” Brian said appreciatively.  
  
“She’s more than good,” Justin answered. “She negotiated with the board committee of the CMA that, as long as I keep to their color scheme, I can paint whatever I want.”  
  
“What are you going to paint?” Brian asked.  
  
“Don’t know yet. But I’m itching to start. It’ll come to me once I put the brush to the concrete.”  
  
“You should paint a larger than life portrait of me,” Brian suggested. “Naked, of course.”  
  
“Of course,” Justin agreed fervently in a dead-serious tone and nodded.  
  
“Make sure my cock gets the right exposure,” Brian continued.  
  
“Maybe I could have Arianna talk to the board and ask them for permission to attach a plastic of it to the painting, so we could have a partial relief.”  
  
“Good idea,” Brian nodded. “And with the right solar irradiation we could have a sundial.”  
  
Justin gasped with enthusiasm, “Interactive art! I like it. And how fitting with the theme of the museum’s first exhibition – Life Forces.”  
  
“Well, if that’s the theme, then my cock should definitely be featured majorly,” Brian reasoned.  
  
“What with it being a work of art and everything,” a voice from the door interfered.  
  
Brian and Justin looked up to see Arianna standing in the arced entrance, an amused smirk in place.  
  
“At least that’s what you’d think it was from the way Justin keeps going on and on about it, like he’d discovered one of Gauguin’s lost pieces.”  
  
Brian fixed Justin with a stare and asked, “You talk about my cock with your agent?”  
  
“We ran out of topics to talk about. Nail polish and Brangelina are only exciting for so long, you know,” Justin sighed dramatically and grinned. He changed the subject. “Ready to go home?” Justin asked.  
  
“No,” Brian replied. He glanced down at the pile of applications on his makeshift desk. He hadn’t had the chance yet to go through them and was determined to set up appointments at least with a few of the applicants before he and Justin would be leaving for Pittsburgh for the coming weekend.  
  
Justin considered his partner. Brian looked stressed and frazzled. A glance at his wrist watch told him that it was just after three in the afternoon. Deciding it was alright to let Brian put a few more hours in before calling it a day, he offered, “Okay then, I’ll take the girls home and you’ll stay here for a while longer. But only a  _while_  longer,” he stressed.  
  
“Yes, Honey,” Brian replied in his best imitation of an obedient housewife. Justin decided to take it for a thank you.  
  
Justin looked around and seeing all workers busy and Arianna’s attention taken by Alex and Emma, stepped closer to Brian and sat down on his lap. Brian looked up at him curiously.  
  
“Don’t work too long, okay?” Justin asked gently and received a nod in reply. “If you manage to be home by, say 7 o’clock, I promise I’ll have a surprise ready for you,” Justin promised in a sultry voice.  
  
“What kind of surprise?” Brian asked in the same hushed tone.  
  
“If I told you now, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Justin reminded him.  
  
“Give me a hint. I need something to look forward to.”  
  
“It’ll be hot,” Justin promised and bit into Brian’s lower lip, immediately soothing the pain with a swipe of his tongue. Brian released a rumbling growl and tangled the fingers of his left hand in Justin’s long strands to pull him in and ravish his mouth.  
  
Using his willpower, Brian pulled back after a minute. With his hair disheveled and his lips red and swollen and his eyes glistening darkly, Justin needed a minute to collect himself. Brian wordlessly congratulated himself on putting that look there before pushing the blond off his lap and getting up to say goodbye to the girls.  
  
Emma went willingly, but Alex put up a little bit of a fight, not wanting to let go of Brian. He told her that he’d come home as soon as he was finished here and passed her on to Arianna. Alex looked like she was about to start crying, but after a few critical seconds Arianna was able to distract her, and Justin quickly followed after her, beating a hasty retreat while everything was still calm.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Brian stood at the foot of the bed, head cocked slightly to the side, and watched his lover sleep. The smell in the room told him everything he needed to know. That was not the kind of ‘hot’ that he’d hoped to find when he came home.  
  
“Brian?” The blond lump on the bed moved and from somewhere underneath the tons of blankets a hand appeared as well as half of a face. He sounded sleepy and hoarse.  
  
“That  _is_  quite a surprise, I’ll give you that,” Brian said sardonically, referring to Justin’s earlier promise.  
  
“Brian?” Justin asked again, sounding even more miserable than just a second ago. “I think I’m sick.”  
  
“Can’t argue with that,” Brian gave back dryly.  
  
“Briiiiaaan,” Justin whined.  
  
“Sunshine, I swear if you keep channeling Mikey, I’m gonna take the kids and take up lodging in the Ritz Carlton for the rest of the week.”  
  
“And leave me here all alone and weak?” Justin croaked.  
  
“You’re not alone; Molly’s here when she’s not at school.”  
  
“And the rest of the time? You’re just gonna let me suffer here all by myself?”  
  
“You’ll manage.”  
  
“But I’m sick,” Justin lamented.  
  
“You have a cold,” Brian corrected.  
  
Justin ignored the statement and tried again in a more placating tone this time, “Brian?” It sounded like a pleading. Brian rolled his eyes.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Come lie with me?”  
  
“No,” Brian pulled a face. “You’re all sweaty.”  
  
“You like it when I’m sweaty,” Justin reminded him.  
  
“Only when I’m the cause of it and not some ugly-ass bacteria.”  
  
“Please?”  
  
“You’re all clammy and sticky and  _disgusting_.”  
  
“Don’t be mean to me when I feel like shit,” Justin whined. “I’m really sick, Brian.”  
  
“I know you’re sick. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in bed at eight o’clock in the evening and  _not_  have any part of you stuffed with any part of me.”  
  
Justin ignored him. Mostly. “But I’m cold,” he tried his luck one more time. Before Brian could bring forth his previous arguments again, Justin interrupted and explained, “And I’m not sticky or sweaty. I just took a bath.”  
  
“Yes, with some strange fucking salts that stank up the whole room,” Brian said waving a hand in front of his nose to make a point.  
  
“It’s eucalyptus. It’s supposed to help with the respiratory tracts,” Justin answered.  
  
“You stink like that shit.”  
  
Justin ignored that too. “Please? I’m cold and you’re always so warm,” he argued.  
  
“Think I’m hot, huh?”  
  
Brian wasn’t really considering leaving Justin to himself in his state. It was just a point of figuring out the logistics. Alex and Emma needed to have their bath and a bedtime story. He’d need to take care of them first before he could devote his attention to his yammering, sweating, shivering partner. He left the room to ask Molly if she would put the girls to bed. Before he left, he heard a hoarsely whispered, “I so hate you,” from the direction of the bed. Brian shook his head. Drama princess.  
  
Brian went back to the main room where he’d seen Molly and the girls a short time ago, but found them all gone. Following the laughs and splashing sounds, he found them in the bathroom. Molly was using the closed toilet lid as an impromptu chair from which she was watching the twins trying to wash each other’s hair with no tears shampoo.  
  
“Hey,” Molly said in greeting when she spotted Brian lingering in the doorway. “I thought I’d get the bath started. You seemed to take longer in the bedroom.”  
  
“Yeah,” Brian replied, pulling a face, suddenly uncomfortable. “Sorry about that.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Molly answered lightly. “It’s not like I don’t know you two.” She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively and smirked.  
  
Brian answered with a pair of raised eyebrows of his own. “I wish,” he said. “Your brother’s sick. He’s feverish and he keeps drifting in and out of sleep.”  
  
“Oh,” Molly said sympathetically, the joking tone gone. “I thought he looked kinda pale when he came home. I just thought he was overworked. I told him to go take a nap while I watch the girls till you come back.”  
  
“Your mother would be proud,” Brian answered with a smirk.  
  
“Fuck you,” Molly answered but she couldn’t help but laugh despite trying very hard not to. Then, turning serious again, she asked, “You think it’s something serious? Does he need to go to a doctor?”  
  
“I don’t think so. Probably just a cold. We’ll see how he feels tomorrow.” Brian bit his lip not knowing how to elegantly change the topic. It was such an unusual gesture that Molly picked up on it in an instant.  
  
“What’s up?” she asked.  
  
Brian glanced towards Alex and Emma. It seemed like they were still distracted enough, amusing themselves with styling each other’s soapy hair into ridiculous hairdos. While they were busy doing that, Brian asked, “Molly, would you mind putting the twins to bed?”  
  
“Sure, I can do that,” she answered and shrugged. Then she gazed at Brian suspiciously. “That what you were so hesitant about?”  
  
Brian smiled thin-lipped. She was perceptive; just like her brother. “No.” He paused for just a second and glanced behind him down the floor to the door of his and Justin’s bedroom before picking up his train of thought. “Molly, I’ve been meaning to ask, are you doing okay with school and everything?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Uhm,” Brian smartly replied. Oh, what the fuck, he thought. There was no way to phrase this without sounding like a concerned mother hen. But then he reminded himself that she was almost, kind of, his little sister and that made him sort of responsible for her. Convincing himself that he was merely checking up on her as part of his duty and denying any and all actual worry or guilty feelings on his part, he said, “Our living arrangements, the girls – they’re not taking up too much of your time, are they? If it’s interfering with your studies or anything—”  
  
“It’s not,” Molly quickly cut him off and Brian tried not to show his relief. “Jeez, Brian, do you always worry so much?” He was about to protest, but Molly talked right over him, as she often did. “Honestly, you’re worse than my mom. Relax. Go take care of your ‘husband’.” She made air quotes and added, “Emma and Alex will be fine with me, right, girls?” she asked in their direction.  
  
Alex, still with a few suds in her hair, took the attention as an opportunity to stand up. Gripping the edge of the tub, she said, “Aw’ dun.”  
  
Brian looked quizzically at Molly who translated, “She’s all done.”  
  
“That’s new,” Brian commented.  
  
“Yeah,” Molly said, “I taught them that after we finished dinner. Pretty cool, isn’t it? They learn so darn fast.”  
  
“Da’hn,” Emma parroted right on cue.  
  
Molly scrunched up her face. “Okay, maybe I should start watching my mouth,” she admitted in an apologetic tone.  
  
“Yeah, Justin keeps telling me the same thing,” Brian replied.  
  
“I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me,” Molly suggested and held out her hand to shake on it with exaggerated seriousness.  
  
Alex waited for a pause in their conversation and when they both fell silent, she extended an arm towards Brian, gripping the edge of the bathtub with the other. “Nighty night stowy?” she asked.  
  
Brian hated to say no to his daughter, but he wanted to get back to Justin. “Molly’s going to read you a nighty night story today. She’s gonna read you your favorite, right?” he asked, the question directed at Molly.  
  
“Absolutely,” she confirmed. She came closer and crouched down beside Brian. Then, making a big show of leaning over to both girls and covering her mouth with one hand, so Brian wouldn’t hear, she mock-whispered, “And before bedtime we’re going to watch a DVD and we’re going to eat tons of chocolate. But shh,” she put a finger on her lips and glancing over to Brian, who pretended he couldn’t hear a thing, added, “you can’t tell your daddies. It’ll be our secret, alright?”  
  
Both girls grinned sneakily and nodded.  
  
Brian muttered a quiet thanks into Molly’s ear. After kissing each girl, including Molly, good night and leaving the kids in their aunt’s care, Brian came back to the bedroom and walked straight up to the bed, shedding his clothes in the process. Justin had managed to doze off again in the few minutes he was gone, but Brian crawled in beside him anyway with only his boxer briefs on.  
  
The dip of the mattress immediately jarred Justin from his slumber. Opening his eyes, he turned around to face Brian and nestled up to him, arms and legs winding around the taller body like he was some kind of heat-radiating device. “Thank you,” he muttered.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, move over a bit or I’ll fall off the bed,” Brian replied. Justin happily complied, though his moves were slow and drowsy. Brian came to rest in the spot Justin had vacated and he cringed. The sheets felt clammy, but Brian didn’t say anything. As soon as Brian stretched out on his back in the middle of the bed, Justin attached himself to him again and sighed contently. His breath evened out seconds later. “Next time you promise me a surprise, be more specific, so I can prepare myself,” Brian said, not sure if Justin was still awake enough to hear him.  
  
“I’m sorry that I said I hated you. I don’t hate you,” Justin mumbled his apology, completely ignoring Brian’s half-joke. At the same time ice cold feet pressed against Brian’s calves and Brian shuddered a little.  
  
“Who the fuck gets the cold in mid-May?”  
  
“I’m special,” Justin mumbled against Brian’s shoulder.  
  
“Yeah. ‘Stop eating the toothpaste’ kind of speshul.”  
  
“Don’t be mean to me. I’m si—”  
  
“Sick. Yes, I know.” They were both quiet for a few moments. “Should I cancel our flights?” Brian asked, referring to the trip to Pittsburgh in two days.  
  
“No,” Justin sleepily replied. “It’s just a little cold. I’ll be fine by then.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Brian replied, making a note to call the airline in the morning. “If you ever decide to follow me outside again, make sure to put some shoes on first,” Brian chided, but Justin had already dozed off and didn’t hear him.


	4. Chapter 4

Present, June 2011

  
  
**-Britin-**

  
Justin knelt in front of the bathtub, watching Emma and Alex play with several rubber duckies and other water toys. One of which was a small water pistol and the reason why Justin’s shirt was soaked through. The girls were amusing themselves with pouring the colored water over each other’s heads. Today, the water was green.  
  
Around last Christmas, while watching Gus and the twins play and observing Gus’ efforts to teach Alex colors, Justin got excited about the whole project. However, the success had been barely moderate. Justin’s artistic soul took heart in explaining it away with the girls’ age, saying it was simply too early. But one day Brian had come home from work carrying a small package with several sachets of bathwater colors. The girls’ beloved bath time turned into a fun learning lesson with a result that sometimes extended to whole color-themed days, initiated by either Emma or Alex demanding the dress, shoes, or bow – and sometimes even food – to be a specific color and pointing the same out in every object they encountered during the day. A short while ago, Justin had even started teaching them how to mix colors. Letting Alex and Emma each decide on a color, he then gave both into the tub, watching the wonder on his daughters’ faces as it mixed into an entirely new one. Of course that meant that bath time was now twice the length it used to be, but the fun and laughter was well worth it in Justin’s opinion.  
  
Justin was interrupted in his musings when he heard Brian enter the bathroom. At the same moment Emma raised the water pistol in the direction of the door. Justin quickly grabbed her hand and pushed the toy down so she wouldn’t spray Brian’s Armani zip sweater and Gucci belt and Whatever-the-brand jeans. He got up from his knees and walked over to Brian for a kiss, at the same time providing a human shield for any of Emma’s water attacks. Brian eyed the bathroom mess and didn’t dare step closer as he noticed the water pooling everywhere in the vicinity of the bathtub, two extremely excited and happy girls, and one very wet partner. He waved at them before leaning down to kiss Justin who was very careful not to soak Brian’s clothes.  
  
Brian pulled back after a few seconds and looked Justin up and down. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate the look, Sunshine,” Brian said with a smirk at the white wet t-shirt that clung to Justin’s upper body and had every potential to make the him hard within seconds, “but you’re such a child.” He shook his head.  
  
Justin smiled big in response. “You’re the one to talk. Don’t think I didn’t see you and Gus and the Wii last night.”  
  
“The Wii is not just for kids,” Brian mock-gasped and objected, deeply affronted.  
  
“You were playing Scooby Doo,” Justin replied dryly to which Brian said nothing and Justin laughed triumphantly.  
  
Brian turned and left the bathroom to the sound of Justin’s amused laughter. He quickly changed into different clothes before joining Justin and the girls again. The minute he appeared in the doorframe again, Alex extended her hands towards him in a universal gesture of wanting to be picked up. Brian pulled her from the tub and started drying her off.  
  
“How did the talk go?” Justin asked while Brian gently rubbed Alex’s wet hair dry.  
  
Even though Brian had visited Kinnetik and Cynthia, he knew Justin was referring to the talk he’d had with Lindsay. She and Gus had arrived in Pittsburgh one day prior to them and Lindsay already had been very busy using the week before they flew down there to make appointments to look at houses as well as apply for jobs. If Justin hadn’t gotten sick two days before they were supposed to fly to the Pitts, Brian and Justin would have been there two weeks earlier, just as they had planned it. But it seemed that Lindsay had used the delayed visit well and didn’t let the additional time go to waste. She had gotten the ball rolling towards finally moving back to Pittsburgh for good. As happy as Brian was about her decision, he tried to keep out of the details for fear of being accused of having any part in any of it later.  
  
As it was, Lindsay had already picked out a small semidetached house, only a few blocks from where she and Melanie used to live. Sight unseen, she agreed to take it and signed the papers only hours after arriving in town. The day before, after arriving in Pittsburgh, Brian and Justin had gone to meet with Lindsay there. It was nice enough and the best that Lindsay was able to afford in her current situation. Gus was supposed to spend the weekend at Britin with his dad and Justin, but before they had gotten into Justin’s car, Lindsay had come up to him and asked Brian if he could meet her for a coffee the next day. Alone.  
  
“Depends on from whose point of view you look at it,” Brian finally replied.  
  
“Yours, of course. I can probably guess Lindsay’s standpoint from there,” Justin answered.  
  
“Well,” Brian began while helping Alex into her pajamas, “she sure is determined to get everything settled before she leaves the city tomorrow.”  
  
“Meaning?”  
  
“She paid first and last month’s rent on the house; she signed for that part time job she was telling us about,” Brian related. He picked up a soft brush and started combing through Alex’s still damp locks. Alex hated having her hair combed, but she surrendered to her fate and held mostly still, though only ever for Brian. “She would need to start this month already, so Gus would have to finish his school year a few weeks early and apparently she already talked to the principal of his elementary school and made sure that wouldn’t be a problem.”  
  
“Okay,” Justin carefully replied, sensing Brian’s frustration but holding back judgment yet.  
  
“She even picked out a junior high school already and made a note to call there Monday morning to get his enrollment process started,” Brian finished.  
  
Justin nodded in understanding. “You’re angry she didn’t talk to you about it first?”  
  
“Yes, that too; though I do know that, technically, I have no right to a vote here. Most of all I’m angry because I’m not sure she ever once talked to Gus about it,” Brian vented, giving voice to some of his misgivings.  
  
Brian was about to say more, but that moment Alex grabbed one of his hands and asked, “Gus?”  
  
“He’s in the living room, watching a DVD,” Justin answered Brian’s silent question. “Later,” he said, knowing that the discussion would have to be continued after the kids had gone to bed.  
  
Not needing to ask, Brian picked up Alex and, after sharing a quick kiss with Justin, went to find his son. He found him sprawled out on his belly on the floor before the big TV screen, head propped up in both hands. As soon as Alex caught sight of Gus, she began to squirm, wanting to be let down.  
  
“Hey, Gus,” Brian greeted his son. “You’re okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Gus replied distractedly, not pulling his eyes away from the TV screen.  
  
“So,” Brian began, “we didn’t get to spend much time together today.” He hadn’t liked having to cut into the already short time he had with Gus.  
  
“That’s okay, Dad. Justin took us to an indoor playground. It was fun,” Gus answered, his attention still held captive by the movie. But he moved on the carpet to make room for Alex who sat down beside him.  
  
Brian decided to let him enjoy the movie and grabbed a few throw pillows from a nearby sofa. He sent them flying in Gus’s and Alex’s direction who immediately adapted them to make themselves more comfortable.  
  
Completely ignored by his children, Brian let himself relax in the big soft sofa behind them. Soon Justin and Emma appeared too and even though it was time for bed for the twins, Brian couldn’t bring it over himself to break up the comfortable evening because he knew it would be the last one the five of them spent together for the next couple of weeks, if not months. Justin seemed to silently agree because he too didn’t hurry to bring the girls upstairs. Instead, he nestled into Brian’s crook of the arm and, after making sure that all children were sufficiently distracted, initiated a long overdue session of Frenching and making out.  
  
They didn’t even realize when the movie ended. It was Gus’s slightly scandalous, “Dad!” that made them pull away from each other, lips red and glistening. The light was too dim to tell for certain, but Brian thought he could make out a dark red hickey just above Justin’s neckline. He tried to remember how and when he put it there but couldn’t and smirked instead.  
  
“Sorry, Gus,” Justin apologized. “I guess we forgot ourselves a little.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Gus’s reply was accompanied by the pulling up one eyebrow. Unlike a few months ago, it came so quick and easy and was such a perfect imitation of his father’s, that Justin was sure he must have practiced it in front of a mirror. He was momentarily tempted to laugh out loud but held it back in the last moment. “Anyway,” Gus said and pointed behind himself, “Alex and Emma are both asleep.”  
  
Brian looked around him and found both girls dozing on the fluffy carpet, sharing a pillow. “Okay,” he said and heaved himself upright, “I’ll get them upstairs.”  
  
Justin looked back and forth between Gus and Brian, torn between helping Brian and not wanting to leave Gus alone. Brian glanced down and understood Justin’s predicament. “Stay,” he said, picking up Alex. “I’ll get Emma in a minute.”  
  
Though he tried to be careful and not jar the little girl in his arms more than necessary, by the time he reached the twins’ bedroom, Alex’s eyes were open and she stared silently at Brian. In the room, Brian switched on the dim nightlight that bathed the place in a soft yellowish glow.  
  
“Here we go, your bed,” Brian said, his voice pitched low. “Go back to sleep.” He was about to lower his daughter into her bed when she wound her arms around Brian’s neck and didn’t let go. It was one of the aftereffects from the move, though things had improved a great deal compared to a few weeks ago. And being back home for a weekend helped too. Brian adjusted the grip he had on Alex and went to sit down in one of the overstuffed chairs by the sideboard that was overflowing with books of various colors and sizes. Brian reached for the nearest one but then changed his mind and searched the shelves till he found Alex’s favorite.  
  
“Nighty night stowy?” Alex asked, her voice thick with sleep.  
  
“Yes. Your favorite, see?” Brian held up the book’s cover for her to see.  
  
“Big hat,” Alex whispered and Brian laughed quietly and agreed while silently commending his daughter’s fashion sense.  
  
 _The Cat in the Hat_. Alex nestled into Brian’s lap comfortably as Brian began to read. She had heard this story so many times already, she could almost tell it along with Brian’s reading. And she did. Her voice sounded heavier by the second and the words came more and more slowly until finally drifting away completely. Brian knew she’d fallen asleep again but he didn’t want to get up yet. Sitting there with his sleeping daughter in his lap Brian felt calm and relaxed like he hadn’t since they left Britin more than two months ago. Alex could always give him this sense of peace. She was so delicate, so fragile, yet she would fall asleep in his arms, no matter the ruckus around them, knowing she was safe there. It made Brian feel like the king of the world; like he could do just about anything. He remembered Justin’s words from the talk they’d shared that night, outside on the roof-deck, and felt a sudden surge of confidence that he could manage New York too.  
  
With new resolve to never get so lost in the stress of it all again, Brian stood up, brought Alex back to her bed and carefully spread the blanket over her. When he returned to the living room a couple minutes later to get Emma, he found Gus and Justin in a conversation.  
  
“—my fault we couldn’t be there when we said we would,” Justin was saying.  
  
“I already told Dad that it was okay,” Brian heard Gus answer.  
  
“It must be weird for you to come back and not have your father here,” Justin continued as Brian entered the room and sat down beside him. “It’s okay to be angry, Gus; or disappointed.”  
  
“I’m not,” Gus replied carefree.  
  
Brian didn’t know what to make of it; whether to believe that Gus was really taking it that easy or if it was just a defense mechanism. Taking into account that Gus inherited plenty of his genes, Brian tended to lean more toward the second possibility.  
  
“I have a question though, kinda a favor I want to ask of you,” Gus suddenly said.  
  
“What kind of favor?” Brian asked, making his presence in the room known.  
  
“When I start school here after the summer break, can I tell people my name is Kinney?”  
  
Brian’s jaw fell open and he was momentarily stunned into silence. Not knowing how to respond, he looked helplessly at Justin. Probably in an effort to buy time, Justin cleared his throat and replied, treading carefully, “Gus, have you talked to your mother about it?”  
  
“No. Or kinda. Not really.” At the confused looks of his father and Justin, Gus explained, “I sometimes tell my teachers in Toronto that they’ve got my name wrong and that it should be Kinney. I guess they called Mom or something because once she sat me down and told me I’m not supposed to do that anymore.”  
  
Brian, finding his voice again, said, “Look, Sonnyboy, you already have two names.”  
  
“But not yours,” Gus interjected.  
  
“No, but Mel... I mean your ma adopted you. You know what that means, don’t you?”  
  
“Dad! I’ll be eleven soon.” While Brian and Justin chuckled at Gus’ indignant protest, Gus continued, “I don’t mean like make it legal or something. I just want to tell my friends and maybe my teachers or something. Maybe you could think about it? And talk to Mom?” he suggested.  
  
Brian couldn’t refuse the pleading look and even though he knew what his answer must be, he agreed to sleep on it and revisit the topic in the morning.  
  


❖❖❖

  
“I think I fucked up my kid,” Brian said, the first traces of self-deprecation and something that resembled anger stealing into his voice. Every bit of previously acquired tranquility almost completely forgotten.  
  
Justin had been in the process of divesting himself of the t-shirt he’d been wearing and halted mid-motion, head half in, half out the fabric. “What are you talking about? How?!”  
  
“Isn’t it obvious?”  
  
“Maybe you could enlighten me?” Justin cautiously inquired.  
  
“He’s under some kind of trauma. His mothers are splitting up; he’s moving to a city that he probably doesn’t really remember is his home, leaving a parent and a sister behind. And with you and me living in New York for the time being, he doesn’t even have that part of his family to come back to. This whole ‘wanting my name’ thing is him being afraid to lose another parent.”  
  
Justin thought through all the facts thoroughly, considering Brian’s psychological effusions as well. He remembered that Gus had started to use Brian’s name long before Lindsay and Melanie thought about splitting up. “No,” he thoughtfully answered, “I don’t think that’s it.”  
  
“Well, I’ll have to talk to Lindsay about it again.”  
  
“What did she say when you met?” Justin asked, remembering that Brian didn’t get to finish his story before and shelving the subject of Gus’ problem for the moment.  
  
“She wants to send Gus to the St. James Junior High School,” Brian announced without further ado.  
  
Justin could only blink. Brian waited for the surprise to fade and his brain to jump into processing mode again. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his face not too gently. It’d been a long day. From the corner of his vision he kept an eye on Justin. Right now, he was blinking rapidly and scratching the side of his head, probably without realizing it.  
  
Justin wasn’t too sure about where he stood on the matter or if he had a standpoint at all. Even aside from his prom Justin did not have the best memories of his high school, but the fact remained that they did have one of the best educational programs of all schools in the Pittsburgh area, that was, if you limited education to mean simply the academic side of knowledge transfer. Taken completely by surprise and not having enough time to think everything over, Justin was torn. He couldn’t possibly say what the idea of Gus as a St. James student made him think because he had yet to have an opinion on it. But it was perfectly clear what Brian thought about it.  
  
Before Justin could ask even one question, Brian exploded, “My son is  _not_  going to be a student there. He will not go to St. James. I’m not gonna let her do this.”  
  
“Well, it  _is_  a good school,” Justin tried to reason, not so much because he wanted to play the devil’s advocate but wanting to at least stay factual.  
  
“Sure,” Brian’s voice dripped sarcasm, “if you want your child to turn out a vain, arrogant, supremacist, narcissistic bigot.”  
  
“Brian, it’s been ten years.” Justin wasn’t sure what he wanted to say with that – whether he meant that a lot could change in ten years or that Brian shouldn’t get himself so worked up over something that lay in their past.  
  
“Time doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you were bashed ten years ago or yesterday.” Justin saw Brian shudder visibly. “Because those assholes running that school had it in their power to prevent it from happening and they didn’t move a finger to do it. They could’ve suspended him; excluded him from the prom. Anything. And they didn’t.”  
  
“Okay. Agreed. But what does it have to do with Gus or Lindsay’s decision?”  
  
“I’m not going to send my son there and pay those same assholes a shitload of money for his education, like everything is fine and forgotten. I’ll fight Lindsay on this,” Brian promised. Seconds later he sagged in on himself suddenly and let himself fall backwards into the stack of pillows. All the rage seemed to drain from him in an instant. He deflated and said, much quieter now but with eyes fixed on Justin and not blinking, “I don’t want you to ever set foot into that building or even onto their premises ever again.”  
  
“I won’t,” Justin replied because it seemed like the answer Brian needed to hear now. He scooted closer and squeezed himself between Brian and the headboard, letting his hands travel up Brian’s back till they rested on his naked shoulders. “I hadn’t planned on ever going back there again.”  
  
“But if Gus was a student there, you’d have to, don’t you realize? Lindsay is going to be a single mom; eventually she’ll get a full time job. The day will come where she’ll ask me or you to pick up Gus from school. And I just don’t want you to go there. Promise me you won’t ever go there.” He turned halfway and looked over his shoulder, searching for eye contact.  
  
“Okay, I promise,” Justin answered, taken aback but willing to agree to anything as long as it would dispel the quiet despair in Brian’s eyes. It was quiet for a long time. Justin continued to knead Brian’s shoulders, interspersing his ministrations with an occasional kiss to the back of his partner’s neck. Eventually Brian relaxed again and Justin wound both his arms around Brian’s torso. “Remember when I was looking into schools for Alex and Emma?” he asked when Brian leaned into him.  
  
“No.” An undertone of accusation resonated in his voice.  
  
“Oh, right, I guess I forgot to tell you. Oops. Well, I did an online check of a few schools in our area.”  
  
“Alex and Emma are not even two yet.”  
  
“I know, but if you want them to go to a good school, you have to apply very early. It’s ridiculous, I know. But I don’t make the rules,” Justin explained. “Anyway, you know the Culler Road that’s branching off to the right, 20 or so minutes out of Pittsburgh? It goes straight up to Cataney Private Academy which is, as far as I could tell from my online research, an amazing school. You and Lindsay could check it out.”  
  
“It’s out of Pittsburgh?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Justin admitted, knowing that no matter how good a school Cataney Private Academy would turn out to be, the distance and location would be Lindsay’s biggest counter-argument. “It’s actually closer to our place than to Pittsburgh. But in my defense, I was looking for a school for the girls. They have really great programs and flexible school hours. None of their classes have a higher student-teacher ratio than 10 to 1,” Justin gushed and Brian had to stop him lest he’d go on and on.  
  
“I’ll look into it and if it’s really as good as you say it is, I’ll suggest it to Lindsay.”  
  
“It’ll probably be wise to get your hands on a few brochures before you mention it to her,” Justin suggested.  
  
“Not necessarily,” Brian replied. “I only have to hint that I will under no circumstances pay for St. James and that’ll be the end of all her plans.”  
  
Justin knew it was the truth, even though he didn’t like to encourage Brian in manipulating Lindsay like that. But ever since Gus’ birth Brian had paid for everything relating to Gus or his education, including a college fund. It was only fair that Brian had a say in what school Gus should go to, even if it meant blackmailing Lindsay. Of course Brian’s involvement also ensured that the decision would not be made over Gus’ head, so any guilt Justin might have felt completely disappeared as he realized that, ultimately, it would be Gus’ decision because Brian would make sure to include him.  
  
“And if she brings up the distance issue, let it slip that Kinnetik’s car service will be at Gus’ disposal on schooldays.”  
  
Brian smiled and patted Justin’s knee affectionately. “Sunshine, you’re a fucking genius.”  
  


❖❖❖

  
The following day, a Sunday, all of them had to go back – Gus and Lindsay back to Toronto and Brian, Justin, and the girls back to New York. Around midday all of them were due at Debbie’s for an early lunch. The morning however was reserved for a prolonged breakfast. Neither Brian nor Justin were overly fond of early rising, so Brian attributed that particular character trait of Gus’ to Lindsay’s genes. Maybe because time had been limited already, the kitchen bustled with activity even before the sun had fully risen. This morning Gus awoke even before Alex who was so far the only one who regularly beat him in the early bird department and Brian managed to wrestle Justin out of bed, though Justin claimed it was the other way around, so they could have breakfast together and talk.  
  
“Does your house in New York have a pool too, like Britin?”  
  
“No, Sonnyboy, no pool. It’s not even an entire house. It’s the top floor of a very tall building,” Brian explained.  
  
“Oh,” Gus said and pouted in contemplation.  
  
“I hope the lack of a pool won’t make you not want to spend part of the summer with us,” Justin ventured. He knew Lindsay hadn’t agreed to it yet, but surely she wouldn’t object to Gus spending at least some of his summer break with his dad, just like Brian had promised his son on his last visit.  
  
“You still want me to come and stay with you?” The surprise was written all over Gus’ face.  
  
“Of course we do. I told you this already on the phone. And on Christmas,” Brian answered.  
  
“Yeah, l know,” Gus said, “but I thought that was before you knew that you’d be moving.”  
  
“Sorry, Gus. We should have told you that the plans didn’t change just because we decided to live in New York for a while,” Justin apologized. “You’ll have an extra-long summer break and your dad and I really want you to come stay with us.”  
  
“Awesome!” Gus thought for a second. “Will you take me to that cool museum again?”  
  
“The Planetarium?” Justin asked.  
  
“No, the one with the cool photographs.”  
  
Justin smiled. What Gus was referring to was not a museum but rather a gallery exhibition of an up and coming photographer who worked with forced perspectives and optic illusions. Justin had taken Gus there when he noticed Gus’ interest in photography and Gus had been fascinated with the exhibits. “I’m not sure the exhibit’s still there, but if not, I promise we’ll find something else that’s just as cool.”  
  
“Can I bring my camera?” Gus asked.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“And we take Alex and Emma, too, okay?”  
  
Justin shared a look with Brian and they both shared a smile. Sometimes Gus still forgot to act grown-up like he usually liked to do, and his enthusiasm showed. Like now. Justin finished his coffee and excused himself, saying he had to go check on the twins and left Brian and Gus alone in the kitchen. It was a good time for Brian to finally talk to his son about his mother’s school plans and Gus’ wish to change his name, unofficially or otherwise. Justin would make sure they could talk without being interrupted.  
  
Brian watched Justin leave the kitchen and then turned his attention back to Gus. His son occasionally sipped from his hot chocolate while pondering the many other things he could do or see when in New York. “Can we go up the Empire State Building again?”  
  
When Brian nodded his agreement, Gus continued, “And the zoo?”  
  
“I thought you didn’t like the zoo?” Brian wondered.  
  
Gus moved around a bit before answering. “I don’t like that they put animals in cages,” he finally replied. “But I want to take a few pictures. I’ve taken so many of our house in Toronto and the street, Mom says I need to find a new subject.”  
  
“If it’s just about the motif, we can go to a park, but I’m sure you’ll find plenty of things in New York to take pictures of. What about your friends though? You could take pictures of them.”  
  
“I did. But I like the other ones better. The ones without people. They don’t move so much. It’s easier, you know?”  
  
Brian nodded and while Gus was still elaborating on the advantages and disadvantages of real people as the photograph’s subject matter, Brian’s thoughts strayed a bit. Things were so good, relaxed; he didn’t want to bring up any topic that would change that, but he wouldn’t have another opportunity like this one to talk to Gus openly. He waited for Gus to finish his thought and began, “You’re going to leave behind all your friends when you move back to Pittsburgh.”  
  
Gus suddenly became quiet. “I know.” He chewed on his lower lip, a habit he must have picked up from Justin, Brian thought. “I’m gonna miss them.” Suddenly his eyes lit up a bit again. “But I would have gone to a new school anyway after summer break. And it really doesn’t matter where the school is, right? Because I was gonna make new friends anyway, right?”  
  
Brian was amazed at his son’s ability to always see the positive side of things. Another habit he must have picked up from Justin. And Debbie, of course. And Emmett. And Ben. Well, maybe it wasn’t so surprising after all. Brian was suddenly very grateful for all of his family’s quirky optimism.  
  
“Oh, that reminds me,” Gus exclaimed, pulling Brian from his contemplations. “Have you thought about the name thing?”  
  
Brian startled. Gus certainly had no problem changing thinking lanes and he obviously didn’t enjoy beating around the bush. Brian would have been proud if it didn’t mean that he would have to have a serious talk with Gus. He sighed. Being in a more or less steady relationship for almost a decade and having two daughters hadn’t made talking about feelings any easier. “Gus,” Brian started, “you know that I won’t go away. That, even though Justin and I live in New York now, I’m always gonna be there for you. And Justin will be there for you too if you need him. You know that I love you, right?”  
  
Gus nodded. “I know.”  
  
The reply came fast, almost too fast for Brian’s taste, and matter-of-factly. He racked his brain trying to find a better way to make Gus understand. “I’m always gonna be your father, Gus. No matter what name you carry.”  
  
“Dad, chill,” Gus interrupted with an eye roll and gone was the enthusiastic child he’d been only minutes ago. The not-quite-teenager took his place. And though Gus still looked the same, there was a seriousness to his features that Brian almost didn’t recognize. He wondered when Gus had become this not-a-child-anymore person. He wondered how much more he missed while Linds and Mel were chasing after their happiness in Canada. “I know,” Gus continued, oblivious to his Dad’s inner turmoil. “Mom tells me all the time how much you love me.”  
  
Brian almost choked on his coffee. “She does?”  
  
Gus nodded again. “I have this photograph of you and me when I was still a baby. It hangs on the wall now, but it used to be on the night table and every evening Mom pointed you out to me and told me how much you did for her and Ma and that you love me very much. And Justin tells me that you love me all the time, too. And you don’t tell me  _every_  time we talk, but that’s how I know that it’s true. Because when you do, I believe you. I love you, too. So it’s cool. Really. You’ve got work to do in New York. And when you’re finished there, you’ll be back. Unless you’re not telling me something, I’m cool.”  
  
Brian gaped at his son, completely awed and slightly embarrassed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was secretly relieved to see how easy all those words came over Gus’ lips. “You’re a pretty amazing kid, you know that?”  
  
Gus smirked. “Yeah, I know. And yeah, I am. Remember that when I turn sixteen and ask you for a car, will you?”  
  
“And so modest. Just like your father,” Justin said, entering again with Alex sitting astride his one hip and Emma holding on to his other hand. He walked over to Brian and put Alex in his partner’s lap while Gus laughed at the last remark.  
  
“Yeah, Mom tells me that too.”  
  
“So, what was the thing with the name all about then?” Brian asked, bringing the conversation back to its subject.  
  
“You or Justin are constantly in the papers. Mom always shows me the articles. People know you around here, do you realize that? I just thought it would be cool to tell people that that’s my Dad. That’s all.”  
  
“You can still tell them I’m your dad.”  
  
“Sure, but they’re not gonna believe me. My friends back in Toronto don’t believe me most of the time. It would have been pretty cool. I’m gonna be the new kid after all.” Gus shrugged and played peek-a-boo with Alex behind a slice of toast. “But you can make it up to me by bringing your coolest car when you come to pick me up.”  
  
Brian shook his head and swallowed a laugh. He was relieved to see his son relatively trauma-free, though it concerned him a bit that Gus thought he had to rely on such things to gain popularity. But that was a topic for another time, Brian decided.  
  


❖❖❖

  
A few hours later found the whole family clustered around the too small kitchen table in Debbie’s house. The boisterous woman was happy to see her whole family together again, even though Brian and Justin had only been gone for a couple of months. She had cooked a meal that would easily have fed an army and continued to refill everyone’s plate unasked. As usual when they all came together, the conversation during the meal broke into smaller groups. Justin listened as Ted and Brian talked shop while at the same time trying to make Alex, who was seated on his lap due to lack of chairs, eat some of the sweet potato casserole. She wasn’t being very cooperative and after some time Justin let her be, focusing instead completely on Brian’s and Ted’s conversation.  
  
“Cynthia told me you went by Kinnetik yesterday. How did the meeting go?”  
  
“It wasn’t a meeting,” Brian defended himself.  
  
“You summoned her there on a Saturday,” Ted dryly countered.  
  
Brian chose not to deign this with an answer and instead answered the question. “It went okay. Apparently you two have everything under control.”  
  
“In my capacity as the CFO I can assure you that Kinnetik has no reason to complain. The staff is so afraid of Cynthia, they probably wish you’d come back soon,” Ted half-joked.  
  
Brian was just about to reply something to that but Emmett leaned over the table right at that moment. “It’s Sunday. No business talks during Sunday lunch with your family. Conversations are to be limited strictly to family, current movies or shows, and gossip. Or do you see me yapping about my employees for fucking up Mrs. Shapiro’s sixth wedding?” With that, and without waiting for a reply, he pulled Ted’s attention to some trick he apparently just taught Emma.  
  
“So Kinnetik’s doing great. That’s good,” Justin set Alex down and addressed Brian who, despite Emmett’s admonition and Ted’s status report, seemed a bit pensive. Brian just nodded which made Justin frown. “What’s up?”  
  
Brian pulled Justin closer, letting his arm rest across the blond’s shoulders. The rest of the family was just going to assume that they were undressing each other with their words. “Did you know she managed to sign Tenneson Home Entertainment with Kinnetik?” Brian told him and Justin shook his head, waiting for Brian to make his point. “She didn’t even tell me she was trying. Told me in passing, with a Cheshire grin on her face.”  
  
“She’s good,” Justin said.  
  
“She’s the born leader. She’s amazing. I’m not paying her enough.” Brian realized what he had said and added, “Don’t let her hear that.”  
  
“But that’s good news. Why the frown?”  
  
Brian glanced away and around the kitchen and the living room beyond it. Everyone seemed engaged in a conversation, their attention somewhere else than on him and Justin. “I don’t want to send her to New York,” Brian said referring to his initial idea of a New York office. He had always planned to transfer Cynthia there while he would continue to oversee things in Pittsburgh. “I want her here, in Pittsburgh.”  
  
“Then you’re gonna have to find someone completely new and train him or her from scratch,” Justin concluded.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“It’s gonna take time,” Justin realized.  
  
“Yes,” Brian said again.  
  
Justin suddenly understood Brian’s weary mood. The news implied that they’d be staying in New York longer than originally planned. Justin thought about it for a second and decided he didn’t care. This was Brian’s dream; he’d been talking about it as long as Justin knew him. Five years ago, when it was Justin who was presented with the unique opportunity of making it big there, Brian had done everything in his power to make sure Justin wouldn’t miss it; he’d pushed him towards it even at a great personal loss. The roles were reversed now, though not quite. It would be so much easier for Justin than it had been for Brian way back when. There would be no separation to endure, no doubts about the future.  
  
“So start looking,” Justin said with conviction.  
  
Brian smiled at how easy Justin was taking the news, though his reaction didn’t really come as a surprise. He pulled his partner closer still, till their foreheads touched. “Cynthia will put up an ad for the position on Monday.”  
  
Somewhere in the middle of the kiss that followed, Debbie interrupted, swatting them both with a kitchen cloth. “Keep your bodily fluids to yourself. People are eating at this table, Brian ‘Your Holiness’ Kinney.”  
  
“I found something tastier that wasn’t on the menu,” Brian replied and demonstratively pulled Justin towards him again, fusing their mouths together.  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, stop it!” When neither man made a motion to stop, she pulled out her big guns, “Stop, or Carl and I will show you how it’s really done.”  
  
Brian pulled back immediately and behaved, much to the amusement of the rest of the gang. While people chuckled or made disgusted faces or exclamations, (“Ma, please! I could have done without this mental image!”) Ted resumed his conversation with Brian.  
  
“Brian, I finally got an offer for Babylon,” Ted announced. In the following silence, you could have heard the whip of an eyelash, but everyone was staring at Brian not moving a single muscle. He met the confused looks with a smirk and a disbelieving shake of his head. Like it was grand news or something.  
  
“You plan on selling Babylon?” Lindsay exclaimed. Justin, though still dumbfounded at the news, knew why it was such a shock for Lindsay, maybe more than to anyone else. Though Alex and Emma would be turning two in less than three months, she still had trouble readjusting her image from ‘Brian, the playboy’ to ‘Brian, the family man’, no matter how undefined or unconventional.  
  
“I didn’t say that,” Brian contradicted and brought the attention back to himself. “I just wanted Theodore to have a look around, see what the market looks like.” When the silence stretched, he added, “So someone made an offer. What’s the big deal?”  
  
“Who?” Deb asked. “Is it some conservative company wanting to turn it into a parking lot?”  
  
“We don’t even know if Brian really plans on selling,” Michael played the voice of reason. Turning to Brian, he asked, “Are you selling?”  
  
“Jeez. You people have no lives if you’re this interested in my business plans,” Brian exclaimed at the general confusion.  
  
“Well, are you?” Michael persisted.  
  
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Justin asked, intended only for Brian to hear but the audience was unavoidable and attentive.  
  
Brian looked around the table. All eyes were trained expectedly on him. He stood up from the chair and pulled Justin with him, directing him to the living room. He knew that the short distance to the kitchen wasn’t really enough to keep out the nosey family, and the lack of a door that he could close behind him didn’t help either. They were still going to have unwanted listeners. But the living room offered at least the illusion of privacy.  
  
Sitting down on the sofa, Brian turned to his partner and answered Justin’s question, “I forgot. I asked Theodore a few weeks back to spread the word just to see if anyone would bite.”  
  
“Is it because of money?” Justin jumped to the obvious conclusion. “It is, isn’t it? Kinnetik New York is costing more than you’re telling me.”  
  
“No,” Brian dismissed.  
  
But Justin wasn’t listening. “It is. I don’t believe you didn’t tell me!”  
  
“Justin, stop!” After waiting a moment for Justin to calm down, Brian asked, “Sunshine, do you even know how much you’re making?”  
  
“After all taxes, fees, and commissions are paid? A couple of grand a piece?” Justin guessed. He actually had no idea.  
  
“That was your asking price that you started with, yes.  _Years ago_.” Brian breathed deep and continued, “Even if I stopped working right this second and closed down Kinnetik and Babylon, you’d still be able to support me in my costly life style that I’ve grown so accustomed to; just like you promised you would.”  
  
“So money’s not an issue?” Justin asked, somewhat calmed but a lingering doubt still remained.  
  
Brian turned half-way in his seat and looked behind him. As if on cue, everyone who stayed behind in the kitchen began to rummage around, pretending to be reaching for bowls or pans, and generally acting busy. Focusing on Ted, Brian ordered, “Tell him that money is not an issue.”  
  
“Justin, money is not an issue,” Ted parroted after him like a good lackey. When Brian glared at him, Ted repeated in a livelier manner, “Honest to God, Justin. You’re finances are fine. More than fine. You’d have no trouble affording Kinnetik’s going rates, if you were an outside client,” Ted explained in a currency Justin could relate to. The blond whistled softly under his breath and Ted finished, “Besides, Kinnetik is doing so well that the New York branch is barely more than a blip on the financial radar so far.”  
  
“Then why?” Justin demanded to know from Brian, oblivious to their audience.  
  
“Just thought that if some time in the future it turns out that the New York engagement is taking longer than expected, we’d reevaluate the capital assets. Told you, it’s just business. Not important.”  
  
“It is if you’re planning to sell,” Justin replied, not missing to spare a relieved thought to the fact that Brian naturally referred to their plans and finances in the ‘we’.  
  
“Do you want me to sell it?” Brian asked, not caring anymore that the whole table was listening in on their conversation and breaking the whole issue down to this one simple question.  
  
“No.” Justin hadn’t thought about what his answer would turn out to be but the moment he heard himself speak it, he knew it was the right one.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“It’s yours. It’s been yours even before it had your name on the ownership papers. It’s so much a part of you and of us. It’s part of our world, and of our past. I’m not ready to let it go yet.” It had nothing to do with Lindsay’s version of Brian and everything to do with Justin knowing and accepting where Brian’s roots of confidence and ambition lay and knowing that it was different now and not being threatened by it in the least.  
  
“Okay,” Brian easily agreed.  
  
“Okay what?” Michael called from the kitchen, jumping into the discussion.  
  
Brian heard the question but his answer was directed at Justin, “It’s gonna remain mine until the day Gus is ready to take over the reins.”  
  
Justin felt more than saw the eye roll of Lindsay. At the relieved exhales of some of his friends, Brian asked, “Why is this so important to you all?”  
  
“Free drinks,” Ted and Blake spoke together, like the true couple that they were.  
  
“Free entrance,” Michael answered at the same time.  
  
“Duh,” Emmett supplied and added, “Besides, now that you’re in a committed relationship, I get all the yummy patrons for myself.” Drew gave a discreet cough at that. “Just to look at,” Emmett appeased him.  
  
All of them shared a hearty laugh and Brian and Justin returned to the table. They continued with the easy banter until it was time to break up the party. Brian noticed the twins getting sleepy and Lindsay getting jumpy. She and Gus would need to leave for the airport soon. Justin began packing up the kids’ things while Brian said goodbye to Michael and Debbie, promising both to come for another visit very soon.  
  
Once Alex and Emma were down for their nap, Brian and Justin allowed themselves a couple hours’ rest and began their relaxing afternoon in the hot tub. It was one of the things that Justin missed most while in New York. There was something indescribably sinful about sitting in warm bubbly water with Brian’s strong arms around him.  
  
Justin let his body relax into Brian’s chest, his head thrown back and resting on Brian’s shoulder while Brian’s fingers idly played with his pubic hair. He went over the day’s happenings, pausing here and there while reliving a conversation or memorizing a specific picture for later. Eventually, he came back to the lunch spent at Debbie’s house and he said, referring to the subject of Babylon and what was once to become of it, “He’s not gay, Brian.”  
  
Brian instantly knew what Justin meant and his reply to that statement was always the same. “You don’t know that.”  
  
Justin bit his lip but smiled nevertheless. They’d had this discussion several times before but Brian stubbornly refused to believe Justin’s gut feeling. It was alright, Justin would wait and see.

  
❖❖❖

  
February 2006  
  
Justin was home from New York on one of his visits. Officially, he needed a timeout before jumping head first into the organizational phase of his first solo exhibition, but if unofficially it had anything to do with Valentine’s Day, then it was strictly coincidental and was mentioned by neither him nor Brian. Besides, Justin had a perfectly believable reason for being back in Pittsburgh: It was also the weekend of Daphne’s engagement dinner. Since everybody who knew Daphne also knew how unlikely it was that Gregory would ever get her closer to a wedding, the dinner was met with according seriousness.  
  
“I wonder how he got her to say yes in the first place,” Justin mused, exhausted from their former ‘welcome back home’ activities, but not ready yet to fall asleep.  
  
“She’s in love,” Brian offered an explanation.  
  
“If that was the reason, she might just as well marry him, which she won’t ever do,” Justin contradicted.  
  
“No, she won’t. But that’s not what I meant,” Brian replied. He elaborated, “She loves him and she knows that he wants to marry her. She’s not willing to go this step so she offered him the next best thing.”  
  
“That’s gonna be one long engagement,” Justin said, pondering. “I wonder if Greg knows that there never will be a wedding.”  
  
“He knows.”  
  
Justin lifted his head and propped it up on an elbow. “Did you talk to him?” he asked disbelievingly.  
  
Brian shrugged. “Maybe.”  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Come on, tell me,” Justin begged. When Brian didn’t cooperate, he started tickling him.  
  
“Hey, you play unfair,” Brian complained.  
  
“Just tell me!” Justin pleaded again.  
  
Brian sighed deeply. “I went over to congratulate him and he said that it wasn’t the wedding yet. So I told him that I hoped he knew that there’d never be one. He said he did.”  
  
“Was he sad?” Justin interjected.  
  
“He wasn’t too thrilled. I said he should be happy. He’s gotten farther than any other man before him and that he shouldn’t push it. Or he’d be pushing her away.”  
  
“Insightful,” Justin supplied as a comment.  
  
“Simple psychology,” Brian waved the compliment aside.  
  
“I hope it’s gonna work out for them.”  
  
“It will,” Brian predicted. “This time next year, she’s gonna have a baby and he won’t care if they’re rightfully married or not.”  
  
Justin shot up. “What? Daph’s pregnant? Why didn’t she tell me? How come you know?”  
  
Brian put a hand on his chest and pushed him down again. “Calm down. She’s not pregnant. Yet.”  
  
Justin furrowed his forehead. “Then how do you know?”  
  
“He wants it and she likes kids, even if the idea of having one never occurred to her before, so she’s gonna give him that. It’s a compromise of sorts. A kid instead of a ring,” Brian simply said, not explaining further.  
  
“That’s kinda cold. I don’t think I like it,” Justin frowned.  
  
“Why is it cold? Both are getting what they want. Social conventions dictate marriage; she doesn’t want that. But that won’t keep her from wanting a kid. That it will make Greg breathe a little easier and feel more secure about their relationship is just an added bonus,” Brian replied.  
  
Justin contemplated what Brian said for a long while. Brian almost thought the blond had fallen asleep only the constant drum of his fingers on the mattress told him Justin was still awake. And thinking. Brian feared whatever it was that was going to come out of his mouth next.  
  
“A child. That’s huge,” The blond finally said.  
  
Brian didn’t answer.  _That_. That was what he’d been afraid of. Right now, Justin was only thinking of Daphne having a child, but eventually he would make the jump to wanting his own. Brian wasn’t ready yet to deal with that. Wanting to at least steer the conversation in somewhat safer waters without being too obvious about the distraction, Brian brought up Gus.  
  
“Lindsay called last week,” Brian said.  
  
“How are things in Toronto?” Justin asked, genuinely interested. “How’s Gus doing in school?”  
  
Gus had started pre-school half a year ago and Brian had been forced to change his visitation schedule to match it to Gus’ school breaks. It was weird thinking of Gus a school kid; Brian couldn’t help but feel old at the idea. He had a kid who already went to school. It sounded all kinds of wrong to him.  
  
“Gus is good,” Brian answered Justin’s questions and, happy about his distraction having worked, offered more information. “Lindsay says he likes school. He loves to learn new things. He seems to be doing alright.” Brian knew Lindsay had been concerned that Gus would have to leave behind his friends from kindergarten since he was going to a different school in a different country. But he had made new friends quickly, having inherited his father’s charm playing no small role in that fact.  
  
“Does he have a girlfriend yet?” Justin asked jokingly.  
  
Brian made some gagging sounds. “He’s not even six years old yet, Blondie. And if he did have someone, it would be a  _boy_ friend!” Brian closed.  
  
“Actually, I’m pretty sure it’d be a she,” Justin said.  
  
“And you base it on the fact that none of us has caught him wearing a dress or experimenting with Lindsay’s make-up? I did none of those things. Did you?”  
  
“No,” Justin admitted. “And it’s not something I can show you evidence for; it’s just a feeling. Call it intuition if you want. He’s not gay.”  
  
“You don’t know that.” It wasn’t that Brian hoped Gus would turn out gay. It was simply the fear that one day he’d have to talk to him about girls and about the mechanics of hetero sex. He shuddered at the thought. Gus was already removed from him by means of logistics. He didn’t want to ‘loose’ him to the hetero world too.  
  
“No, I don’t. But I don’t think I’m wrong,” Justin said.  
  
“If he turns out to be straight,” Brian said, “ _you’re_  going to have the talk with him.” Brian closed the issue and Justin laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

Present, July 2011

  
  
**-New York City-**

  
Brian was almost one head taller than Justin, but whenever they came to the airport together to pick up Gus, he always spotted Justin first. Gus’ dad and grandma called him Sunshine. Maybe that was why he stood out in a crowd, Gus mused.  
  
Sam, the stewardess who was entrusted with the task to get Gus safely out of the airplane and to the arrivals hall, took Gus’ hand after they passed the mostly empty customs booths and led the way. Gus was initially reluctant to take it because he was almost eleven years old; he really didn’t need to hold someone’s hand anymore to not get lost. But Sam had been really nice to him the whole flight. She brought him lots of grape juice and sat and talked to Gus for a while because he was sitting alone in his row and had no one else to talk to.  
  
As soon as they were through the sliding doors and Gus could see the hall stretching out before them, he took a look around. There were tons of people there and he and Sam were still behind the fenced off area, but it only took Gus two seconds to find Justin. He waved and Justin waved back.  
  
“You already see your dad?” Sam asked and looked in the direction Gus was pointing at.  
  
“See the short, blond guy with the big smile?” he asked.  
  
Sam nodded. “That’s your dad?” She sounded surprised and skeptical.  
  
Gus didn’t want to say no because Justin kinda was his dad, for all intents and purposes, but Gus knew if he said yes, he’d have to explain, simply because they didn’t look anything alike. So he answered instead, “My dad is the one behind him.”  
  
He knew the exact moment Sam spotted his dad, because she let out a whistle. “Now I know from whom you’ve got the looks.”  
  
Gus had to grin. He liked it when people said that Dad and he looked alike. It’s been a while, but in the past his mom used to say that a lot, too. Now, instead of saying it, she sometimes would stare at him for a long time and when Gus caught her at it and asked what was wrong, she’d just shake her head and smile. She wouldn’t say a thing, but Gus could tell that she’d seen something in him again that reminded her of Gus’ dad. Secretly, he was proud of it. But he guessed his mom knew. It was like a secret code between them and Gus liked that too.  
  
Thinking about his mom and dad always made Gus remember that he didn’t really know what their deal was. Even though his dad sometimes said to Justin that Gus was a lot smarter than people usually gave credit to kids his age, nobody ever told him anything. In the past, before he had come to the conclusion that it didn’t matter, Gus used to wonder what his parents’ story was. The first time he brought up the topic it was when he asked his mom whether she wished she was married to his dad. He received shocked stares from both his mothers and afterwards, his ma sat him down at the kitchen table, put a cup of cocoa and a plate of chocolate cookies in front of him and asked if Gus wished that he had a normal family, with a mom and a dad. Gus didn’t. But he thought that she hadn’t believed him.  
  
The only reason he’d asked was because he’d noticed a sad smile on his mom’s face. It was during a week that Gus and his mom had spent in Britin together. His ma hadn’t been able to come, because Gus’ sister JR had picked up the chickenpox and couldn’t travel. So they’d gone alone. And Gus had spent a lot of time watching how his dad looked at Justin and how his mom looked at his dad and how his dad didn’t even notice the stares.  
  
From Uncle Ben Gus knew that the simplest explanation was usually the correct one. And Uncle Teddy always liked to tell Gus these stories of unrequited love. Gus thought Uncle Teddy got them from those operas he and Uncle Blake liked to watch so much. But of course his tales were always packed into a moral story about hope and perseverance (even though Gus wasn’t sure what that word meant, exactly) and the importance of studies and financial investment. Sometimes Gus though that he must be the only kid who, even at 8 years of age, actually knew what financial assets were.  
  
But anyway, after that week in Britin, Gus had decided that, whatever his parents’ deal was, it didn’t really matter to him. Because his dad’s world consisted of Justin. And everyone else, even Gus himself, played only a smaller role in it. Gus didn’t mind that either. That was how things had always been; at least how they’d been ever since his dad had met Justin. And as far as Gus knew, they’d known each other forever; or for as long as Gus existed which, in his world – almost eleven years, after all – was a very, very long time.  
  
Gus rarely thought about his parents like this anymore. Only sometimes, when his mothers were fighting, was he reminded of it. They had been fighting more lately; and their house in Toronto was nothing like Britin – neither in size, nor in wall thickness – so, of course, Gus was bound to hear things. His ma especially tended to say stuff. She never said anything out loud, really; sometimes she hinted at things. But Gus had tried not to listen anymore. Everyone in his family, from his dads and uncles to Grandma Deb and Grandpa Carl – all of them had taught Gus at some point that the only opinion that mattered was his own. And Gus’ opinion when it came to his dad was rock solid.  
  
When his mothers decided to split up, Gus hadn’t been surprised. Actually, he had been relieved, though he never said a word about it to anyone. He’d watched them carefully for over two years – ever since that week when he’d realized that he’d never seen his mom look at his ma the way his dad and Justin looked at each other. And even though that weekend was years ago, even before Dad and Justin had Emma and Alex, things had gotten only ‘worse’ between his dads since then.  
  
And his mom and ma had gotten worse since then too; only, in their case in the literal sense. Before they decided to split up, the fights between them had grown bad and frequent. Gus knew his sister JR would take the divorce hard. She was only six and didn’t understand why they couldn’t just say ‘I’m sorry’ and be done with the fighting. But she was too little yet to see or notice that the fighting really had gotten bad. When his mom had sat him down after Christmas and told him that the two of them would be moving back to Pittsburgh, he’d been surprised. And even though he knew that his mom was going through a difficult time, he couldn’t help but be happy. He’d always wanted to live closer to his dad and Justin, especially the older he got. He could talk to them about things he was embarrassed to talk to his mother about.  
  
The last days before he and his mom left Toronto, had been bad. His mothers barely talked to each other at all and even JR had not been her usual, obnoxious self. Gus was grateful that now he had his dad and Justin and his twin sisters to concentrate on. He was growing jumpy and excited just thinking about all the things they were going to do together.  
  
Gus almost giggled; Justin was probably just as excited as Gus was. He looked as though he couldn’t stand still. Suddenly Gus realized why he always noticed him and not Dad first. His dad just stood there, a smile the only giveaway of his joy, while Justin wrung hands or waved madly and bounced on his feet. Gus tried not to run towards them when Sam let go of his hand but somehow he still ended up in Justin’s embrace only a moment later. Dad gave him a one-armed hug and tried to mess up his hair, but Gus ducked away in time.  
  
“Dad, no!” he exclaimed. “My hair!”  
  
After a stunned pause his dad smiled proudly while Justin rolled his eyes. “Is that styling gel?” Justin asked and carefully touched Gus’ head.  
  
Gus shrugged. “Maybe.” He wasn’t going tell them that he’d snagged some off of his ma before they left Toronto.  
  
“Then it’s started.” Justin sounded weary and defeated.  
  
“What did?” his dad asked him.  
  
“The Kinney vanity gene has kicked in.”  
  
“Just because you think the ‘fresh out of bed’ look is all the rage,” he tussled Justin’s hair demonstratively, “doesn’t mean those of us with some sense for style are shallow-brained victims of their taste.”  
  
“I thought you liked the ‘fresh out of bed’ look on me,” Justin whispered and Gus was probably not supposed to hear it but he did.  
  
His dad whispered something back which made Justin rise up on his toes and bite his earlobe. His dad laughed then and leaned down to kiss Justin. Gus was used to it by now and simply shook his head good-naturedly, waiting patiently and watching as they took their time making out in front of dozens of people in their immediate vicinity. They really were getting worse and worse each time he saw them. Somehow his dads managed to always kick it up a notch, no matter how short time passed between his visits. But when his dad’s hand that had been resting on Justin’s back the whole time started to slip lower, Gus intervened. He considered himself very patient and he certainly didn’t mind his fathers’ display of affection, but there was a limit to how much he was willing to witness. Besides, Sam was still standing a short distance away, waiting for them. He tried to squeeze himself between the two, hoping to break them apart.  
  
“Okay, enough already,” Gus called up to them. “Can you finish this later maybe? Preferably when I’m not around anymore?”  
  
His dad finally let go of Justin and reached for Gus again, squeezing his shoulder briefly and winking. Gus decided to take it for an apology, rolled his eyes in response, and turned his attention to Justin. His father meanwhile took the suitcase from Sam and talked to her for a few seconds while Gus peppered Justin with questions. No matter how much Gus wanted to be like his dad; there was one thing that he just couldn’t get rid of and that was his curiosity. He wanted to know about everything that had changed since his last visit and the only way he knew how to satisfy it was to ask. He learned a long time ago that he’d best direct all his questions at Justin rather than his dad. He was guaranteed more detailed answers that way, and in some cases an answer at all.  
  
“Is Dad still working a lot, Justin? Or is he going to spend the day with us?”  
  
“He’s usually very busy, but I think he took the day off. And tomorrow too.”  
  
“Cool, a whole weekend!” Gus replied enthusiastically. “Maybe we can convince him to go to the park with us.”  
  
“We could sneak in some food when he’s not looking,” Justin suggested.  
  
“And have a picnic,” Gus was already hooked on the idea. Whenever Gus and Justin, sometimes accompanied by JR and her dad, had a picnic in the garden in Britin, Brian chose to watch them from the patio instead of joining them. “Maybe we’ll even get him to eat a hot dog.” He beamed at Justin.  
  
Justin laughed. “Small steps. But we can try. How did the move go, Gus?” he asked, changing the topic, knowing how easily Gus tended to get carried away.  
  
“Okay, I guess,” Gus replied. “It’s weird, you know? Whenever we go somewhere or pass a place from before, Mom is reminded of something from the past. She keeps telling me stories of what happened there and I can’t even really remember even living there, in Pittsburgh.”  
  
“But you’re okay so far?”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, it’s only been a week and a half. And I still think it’s strange to be in Pittsburgh and not be in Britin you know. But yeah, it’s alright. A bit boring.” Gus shrugged. “The house that Mom found? There’s not one kid my age in the entire street. Can you believe that?”  
  
“You’ll find friends soon, I’m sure. Wait till school starts,” Justin tried to cheer him up.  
  
“I know,” Gus answered. “It is kinda cool though that Auntie Em and Uncle Mike and all the other guys are really close by. As soon as all our stuff arrives and I have my bike back, I can drive it to the comic book store. It’s really close by.”  
  
“You like comics?” Justin asked surprised. It was the first time he heard Gus mention them.  
  
Gus wrinkled his forehead in what looked like mild embarrassment. “They’re okay. Some graphics are kinda cool. And JR really likes them. She reads them a lot.”  
  
“You miss your sister?”  
  
Gus thought about it. Did he? It wasn’t like they’d been best friends before. But JR was always –  _always_  – fucking loud and because of that seemed always present. He’d gotten so used to her voice constantly ringing through the house. “It’s really quiet without her,” Gus finally replied, not really giving an answer to Justin’s questions. “Oh, that reminds me: I’ve a message for you from Grandma.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
  
“Yeah.” Gus squinted through half-closed eyes in concentration and recited, “Make sure you get your asses back to Pittsburgh sometime soon because I don’t want my grand-daughters to forget me and keep in mind that I have plenty of compromising pictures to blackmail you with should you not find the time for a visit.”  
  
Justin grinned. “Deb always knew how to motivate people to do her bidding.”  
  
“The message wasn’t from Grandma  _Deb_ ,” Gus corrected.  
  
Justin stared at him. “My mother used the word ‘asses’ in a message you were going to relay to me?”  
  
“She uses other words too when no one’s listening. She doesn’t even mind when I say them. Um, unless Tucker is listening.” Gus grinned and Justin smiled too.  
  
“You ready to go, Sonnyboy?” Dad interrupted and Gus nodded.  
  
“We have to hurry a bit,” Justin said as he and Dad rushed out of the airport building, while still moderating their steps so Gus had no trouble keeping up.  
  
“Where are we going?” he asked as he walked beside Justin with Brian bringing up the rear.  
  
“We have to pick up the girls from preschool.”  
  
“Alex and Emma go to preschool?” Gus asked surprised. “You didn’t tell me.” At that, Gus shot an accusing stare to his dad to whom he’d talked only yesterday.  
  
“It’s no big deal,” his dad replied. Yeah, it probably wasn’t, Gus figured. But he hated not being in the loop. He liked to know what was going on in the lives of his dads.  
  
“They started last week,” Justin explained, ignoring the exchange between Brian and him.  
  
“It’s a four-week summer program, sort of like a test run to see how they fare alone without the parents. If all goes well, they’ll go there starting with the new school year. Since we are going to stay a bit longer than planned, it made sense,” his dad said. He looked at Justin with a side glance and Gus wrinkled his forehead. Gus knew that he usually did this when he was unsure about something. It seemed to Gus that this was a hot topic between his fathers. A second later he changed his mind since Justin didn’t show even the slightest reaction to that and Gus felt no tension in the air or change of atmosphere. He’d already known that New York would take longer than his dad had originally expected. He didn’t mind. He was already seeing his dad and Justin more often than before.  
  
He was a bit surprised though when he saw that they were taking the exit that led to the short term parking lot instead of to the waiting cabs; and even more surprised when he caught a glimpse of Justin’s car. It was easily visible even from a distance thanks to its color which Gus knew Justin was really fond of. Gus always got a craving for dessert when he saw it because it reminded him of chocolate ice-cream with hot chocolate syrup.  
  
“I picked it up after our last visit home,” Justin explained, noticing Gus’s surprise. “I needed something to cart paints and canvasses in and since Emma and Alex started kindergarten it’s more comfortable than calling a cab each time.”  
  
With a bit of fear, Gus suddenly realized that New York might not just be quite as temporary as he had pictured it and he worried whether there would be a place for him in their New York home. He knew from several conversations with his father and Justin that the place they were staying at was nowhere near the size of Britin. He also knew that his Dad was very busy with the new business and Justin had also his own project – something that had to do with a museum; he wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but he planned on grilling Justin about it later. And then there were Emma and Alex and of course Justin’s sister Molly, and all of a sudden Gus was uncertain whether it was such a great idea to accept the invitation to spend the summer with his dads.  
  
As he got in the car, Gus was chewing his lip nervously without realizing it. He didn’t notice his dads glancing at him through the rearview mirror and then sharing a meaningful look. No matter how much Gus wanted and strived to be like his dad, he’d never manage the skill to hide his thoughts from being so easily readable on his face.  
  
He was about to be pleasantly surprised to discover that not only had his dads divided the twins’ room in half to create an additional bedroom to give him some private space, but Justin had also brought his favorite video games and a few other of his personal things from Britin from his last trip there.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Several weeks later  
  
Gus and Justin lounged in the large salon-like room, lying flat on the floor behind the largest of the three sofas in the room, feet up on the backrest. Alex tried to imitate them, but her legs were too short as they were barely coming up to the upper edge and constantly slipping off, but true to her insistent and unrelenting nature, she continued on, throwing a glance towards Gus and her daddy every couple of minutes and correcting her stance.  
  
Behind their heads, a game of Candy Land lay abandoned, the cards flying around the board in a messy disarray for which Gus didn’t care much, and it seemed Justin didn’t either. He and Gus had been in the process of teaching Alex the game, and even though she was a bit too young for it, all three of them had had a lot of fun, while Emma had been busy dancing around them in circles, providing a constant background noise. Being not quite two years old yet, the game could only hold Alex’s attention for so long, and after a while they’d abandoned it, especially when the conversation Gus had been having with Justin had turned towards things that Gus wanted to know more about. He tried to be subtle about it, though he suspected that subtlety was not yet his forte, and probably there were better equipped people to handle the topic, but after considering his choices – his moms who would smile and not take him seriously, Grandma Deb who would pinch his cheeks, Uncle Mike who would look to Uncle Ben for help, his dad whose reaction Gus couldn’t really gauge but dreaded the most, Auntie Em who’d look at him with tears in his eyes. No, really, Gus decided, even though Justin was gay – but then again, his family  _was_  lacking on the hetero side – Justin still was the most reasonable choice. Gus supposed he could have talked to Grandma Jen, but she was in Pittsburgh and that made things difficult.  
  
“Sometimes,” Gus began, slowly advancing the topic he wanted to talk to Justin about, “I tell my mom things and she keeps it a secret and doesn’t tell Mel what I told her.”  
  
Justin interrupted, “Why do you call your ma ‘Mel’, Gus?”  
  
Gus was instantly embarrassed and glanced to the side to avoid looking into Justin’s eyes. He bit his lip, wishing that he would have been more careful about what he blurted out. But it was too late now; and anyway, he knew he could tell Justin anything without him getting angry. “I don’t like how she talks about Dad sometimes. And when she and Mom fight, she says stuff.”  
  
“Stuff like what?”  
  
“ Like, that she doesn’t feel like a mother to me and that it’s Mom’s fault.”  
  
Justin looked at him sympathetically. “Gus, when grown-ups fight, they sometimes say things they don’t mean and regret later.”  
  
Gus just shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t care though,” Gus said after a pause, finally looking up and looking Justin straight in the eye. “‘Cause I don’t feel like she’s my mother either.”  
  
Justin looked shocked for a moment, searching for words, wanting to say more, or anything at all. For a moment, Gus thought that Justin would begin to explain to him that his feelings towards Mel were only the result of the recent separation his moms were going through. They weren’t. “It’s not just the divorce, you know,” he told Justin. “I was just a little kid back then, but I do remember that she and Ma used to split up a lot. And when they did, Mom always took me with her. That’s just how things were – I always went with Mom. I was always hers and Mel…” Gus stumbled over the name again and corrected himself, “Ma never protested it.” Justin’s expression was unreadable. Gus wasn’t sure if it’s pity or sadness or understanding. But he’d said so much already, so he continued, “Ma was the same way about JR. Whenever there was a fight – and there were lots of them – she took JR and went out for the day. We were like that patchwork family where every parent has a child and they all live together, but in the important things, like parent-teacher conferences or doctor’s appointments, they always keep to themselves.” Gus shrugged; mostly to emphasize that he didn’t really care about how things used to be. He’d never known them differently – so why should he?  
  
Gus was afraid Justin didn’t believe him, but then Justin’s face relaxed and he said, “I wish you wouldn’t have been in the middle of all of it.” Gus heard the traces of regret in Justin’s tone, but thankfully no pity.  
  
“It probably sounds worse than it is... was,” Gus immediately corrected himself. “It’s not like I had it bad or anything. I’ve a pretty cool Mom and a great Dad.” Two dads, he added silently. “And a bunch of uncles and aunts and Grandmas that are fun. And I always get the best gifts for Christmas. All my friends always thought so.”  
  
Justin laughed at that and Gus grinned. After another appraising glance, Justin let the topic go and returned to their previous one. “I interrupted you before. Sorry. You were saying something about your mom keeping your secrets,” Justin prompted.  
  
Gus smiled gratefully and picked up his former train of thought. “Well, she and I, we have this deal. When I tell her something and ask her to keep it a secret, she does. She says it’s because she’s bound by the parent-kid-pact and that she has to follow the rules.” Gus smiled at that. “I know that there’s no such thing, but I still think it’s kinda cool.”  
  
“It is,” Justin agreed. He smiled encouragingly at Gus to continue.  
  
“So,” Gus drawled, stalling for time, “can we have that too?”  
  
“You mean, a parent-kid-pact?”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, you are one of my dads, right?”  
  
Justin smiled at him and reached over with one arm to muss up his hair. Gus let him. “Yeah, Gus,” he said, “I definitely am.”  
  
“Awesome.”  
  
“What do you want to tell me and who don’t you want to know your secret?”  
  
“I don’t want you to tell Dad. He’s probably not gonna like it.”  
  
“Okay,” Justin agreed and looked a bit puzzled at the revelation that there was something that Gus would tell him but at the same time would not want his father to know. After a few moments had passed though, Gus still remained quiet. Justin’s face changed expressions again. “So, who’s the girl?” Justin asked with a little knowing smile.  
  
Gus, offering a last half-hearted resistance, deflected, “Why do you think it’s a girl?”  
  
“Why do you not want your dad to know?” Justin retorted without hesitation. When again no answer was forthcoming, Justin continued, “Is she a girl from Toronto?” he asked and Gus could see the concern forming already on his face, probably because he was realizing that the only time Gus would be returning to Canada from now on would be for short periods of time to visit with Mel and his sister. But Justin was wrong thinking that distance was the problem that bothered Gus.  
  
“No,” Gus answered, chin tucked into his chest and eyes focused down. “But yes, there  _is_  a girl. Remember when I told you and Dad that Mom took me to this picnic/barbecue/parent-teacher-student meet-and-greet kind of thing that my new school had organized? The first week we moved to Pittsburgh?”  
  
Justin nodded and ‘ahh’d’ knowingly. He smiled one of those knowing smiles that Gus didn’t completely know what to make of but which always made him feel sort of secure and understood when he saw it. “What’s her name?”  
  
“Rowan; and she’s gonna be starting at Cataney with me. I don’t know yet if she’s gonna end up in any of my classes, but she was really cool. Not like the other girls who were there. She talks too much, and wears funny clothes, and her hair looks like something’s built a nest inside it, but she’s funny and I kinda liked her.”  
  
“So, what do you wanna know? A word of warning before you answer: I know next to nothing about kissing girls.”  
  
That made Gus laugh and it eased the atmosphere somehow. When he thought about it for a second though, he pulled a face. To be honest, he hadn’t really thought about kissing a girl or kissing in general; mainly because he hadn’t made up his mind yet whether he wanted to kiss a girl or a boy. His friends back in Toronto who were all a bit older than he was, never asked themselves this question and Gus had often thought that he was in a more difficult position than they were.  _Their_  range of choice was decimated by fifty percent when thinking about possible candidates. He let Justin in on his thoughts. To his relief, Justin didn’t laugh at him but seemed to contemplate his comment seriously. “I just think she’d make a cool friend,” Gus concluded his thoughts.  
  
“Well, if you’re not looking to ask her to be your girlfriend just yet, why don’t you just go over to her before or after a class and say hi?”  
  
“I can’t just go over and say that!” Gus exclaimed at the ridiculous idea.  
  
“Why not?” Justin answered simply and Gus spluttered.  
  
“She’s gonna think I’m retarded or something. Or worse – she’ll think I want her to be my girlfriend!”  
  
“’Retarded’ because you said hi? I don’t think so. I can recall quite a number of times where you said the word and you sounded very articulate each time,” Justin teased him which made Gus laugh again. “Or,” Justin continued, “you could sit alone at a table and wait for her to come over and make the first move. Like your aunt Daphne did when I first talked to her. But if she doesn’t, you’ll be running the risk of possibly missing out on a very cool friendship.”  
  
“Hmm,” Gus answered. Justin had made a good argument and given him something to think about. He’d think about it some more and come to a plan of action before school finally started.  
  
“Why don’t you want your dad to know?” Justin interrupted his thoughts.  
  
“’Cause she’s a girl,” Gus immediately answered in a duh-voice.  
  
“But you told me you like her just as a friend.”  
  
Gus nodded at that.  
  
“And even if you were one day interested in a girl in more than just a friendly way, you can talk to him about it. You can talk to him about anything. Your dad loves you – no matter what.”  
  
“I know. But still… Justin, I may be just a kid, but I know that he hopes I’ll turn out gay. I don’t know what I am yet. No need to worry him.”  
  
Justin stared at him with a weird look on his face that Gus didn’t know how to interpret exactly. He thought he saw pride in his eyes and maybe understanding. He relaxed; he knew his ‘secret’ was safe with Justin.  
  
While they were still staring at each other, Justin murmured, “God, you’re growing up so frikkin’ fast. Sometimes you say stuff that makes me forget you’re only ten years old.”  
  
“I’ll be eleven in a few weeks,” Gus reminded him.  
  
“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” Justin replied mock-seriously. “That makes all the difference of course.”  
  
Gus was about to laugh and offer something in response, but the sound from a jangling key from the entrance hall drew his attention. Gus glanced at the clock on the wall. Today was the first day during his stay in New York where he hadn’t seen his dad all day. He had been already gone when Gus and the twins had breakfast and Justin had told him that the renovations of the new building for his dad’s company were in their critical stage at the moment with all the hardware that was being installed and test-run, which required his dad to oversee every step of it personally.  
  
The door fell close with a soft clunk and a few moments later his dad appeared in the doorway to the living room. Gus craned his head backwards to see his father entering the room, the awkward position making him appear upside down. He watched as Emma flew towards his knees, an unexpected missile from the left corner of the room, and hugged them. His dad ruffled Emma’s hair and she let go a second after receiving her ‘welcome home’ kiss and was off again, this time dragging a large doll behind her by the hair. His father only stopped for a moment to take in the room and its inhabitants. Gus thought he looked tired, but there was a smile on his face and, despite everything, he seemed relaxed and content. So, whatever happened in the new building that made him stay this late, didn’t manage to upset his good mood. Gus watched as his dad walked closer to where Justin was spread out on the floor between him and Alex, and kneeled down. Gus was a bit surprised. He was barely eleven years old, but it had been drilled into his head since his earliest childhood days that his father took meticulous care of his clothes. He never let them lie around; he always changed into something comfortable first thing after returning from work; he never squatted down and risked wrinkling the material; and he’d never kneel somewhere lest he’d pull a thread loose or something. However, as Gus’ mind was flooded with all those lectures, his father cupped Justin’s head in his hands and kissed him, upside down, on the lips.  
  
Gus regarded it as a total waste of time to be grossed out or embarrassed by their kissing anymore. The trick was to just patiently wait till they were done, because most of the time, even when they did notice the protests, they wouldn’t do anything about it. The only thing Gus still found fascinating about the whole thing was how entirely different their kissing was compared to that of his moms. And, of course, that they kissed more often than them. Or than Uncle Ben and Uncle Mike. Or any other couple Gus knew. His father was usually an expert in all things nice and enjoyable. If he was spending so much time kissing, maybe Gus should check it out too, he thought.  
  
“Hmmm,” Gus heard Justin almost purr when his dad finally pulled away and turned his head to the right to greet him now.  
  
“Hey, Sonnyboy.” He reached out to muss up Gus’s hair, just like Justin had done only minutes before. Gus wished everyone would stop that. He hadn’t yet figured out how to make it look cool and his dad and Justin were not helping, mussing it up all the time. “Did you have a nice day with Justin and your sisters?”  
  
“Yeah,” Gus replied. “We made triple-chocolate cookies. I helped with the dough and Alex and Emma decorated them with chocolate icing. We left some for you.” From the corner of his eyes, Gus could see Justin grin and he knew why. Just like he knew about his dad and his attitude towards his clothes, Gus knew all about his eating habits. Normally, his dad would never even look at a triple-something for fear it would attach itself to his waist simply from acknowledging its existence. But Gus knew that now he would not only look at it, but actually eat it. Sometimes Gus thought his dad was just too easy. He shared a secret knowing smile with Justin while his dad’s head was turned away from him.  
  
“You’re late,” Justin commented as he watched Brian turn his attention on Alex. She was still trying to imitate Justin’s lounging pose but had somehow forgotten all about it when she spotted her daddy in the door frame. Gus alternately watched Justin and then his father as the latter leaned over and tickled Alex before he picked her up by the ankles and carefully lifted her, dangling her upside down in midair. She spread her arms and giggled madly. Gus smiled, remembering how his father used to do the same thing with him when he was still little.  
  
“Don’t make her laugh too much,” Justin cautioned him. “Or she’s not going to fall asleep.”  
  
“Why aren’t they in bed already?” He eyed the girls again; both, Emma and Alex, were already wearing their pajamas.  
  
“I didn’t want them to go to bed without seeing you all day,” Justin answered.  
  
His dad didn’t reply to that; he only smiled and tried to set Alex back down again, but she protested.  
  
“More, Daddy, more!”  
  
“Okay, next stop is your bed. Say goodnight to your daddy and Gus.” Still holding her by the ankles, he lowered Alex enough so she could kiss Justin and Gus goodnight before gently throwing her over his shoulder and stalking away. On his way out the room, he threw a glance towards Emma who was half-hiding behind a large potted plant, probably because she was hoping everybody would forget that it was bedtime for her as well.  
  
“I’ll get her in a few minutes,” Justin answered his unvoiced question.  
  
With a nod, Brian walked out and Gus, turning his attention back on Justin, saw a wondrous look on his face. It wasn’t the first time that Gus had caught Justin with this particular expression. “Justin? Why are you always staring at Dad like that when he’s not looking?” he finally asked and jarred Justin from his trance.  
  
Justin turned his gaze away from the now empty spot where Brian had disappeared behind and answered, “He’s a study of contrasts and I find it highly fascinating.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Justin thought for a moment and Gus realized he was searching for a way to explain an abstract concept to him in a way that Gus would understand. Gus waited patiently for Justin to start. Justin had a talent to explain things in a way that made them seem very easy; even math. “Remember when we walked down the street this morning and you took pictures with your camera? You tried to get the shadow right, and the colors. And in Leila’s studio, when she showed you her new project; how she cuts small details from different photos and combines them into a new one? And how they can mean different things when pieced together with other parts?”  
  
Gus nodded eagerly as he recalled the huge installation in Leila’s studio they had gone to see a few days before. It was a black screen on which, in an infinite loop, small sections of a large landscape were uncovered bit by bit and with every new clipping Gus thought he’d recognized a building or a street in New York, but with every new piece he’d also had to change his guess because it changed the overall picture. He’d been so fascinated by it, he’d sat there for hours, hoping to see the entire picture. But for every exposed piece, another was covered and moved in the frame. Justin told him that it was run by a computer that moved them randomly, making sure that no two visitors would ever see an identical picture. He’d told him the work was called ‘Kaleidoscope’.  
  
“Your dad’s exactly like that,” Justin finished and Gus thought he understood better now.  
  


❖❖❖

  
A couple hours later, Gus was roused from his sleep when he heard not so stealthy little feet stomping down the hall, pat past his room and towards the bedroom of his fathers. The dull thudding of the footsteps was followed by the sound of an open hand, that had not yet mastered the art of knocking, slapping the door. Gus listened for that low giveaway squeak of the master bedroom door and when he heard nothing but another slapping-instead-of-knocking sound, he got up and out of his bed. Sticking his head into the hall, he saw the outline of Alex’s form, illuminated by the bright moonlight seeping in through the window at the end of the hall.  
  
“Hey, Al, what are you doing up?” Gus asked in a hushed voice. He didn’t bother asking her how she’d gotten out of her bed. Even though both, hers and Emma’s beds had bars to prevent exactly this, Justin had told him only a couple of days ago that the twins had somehow learned how to climb over them. Justin was going to remove them altogether, since they were practically useless already.  
  
Alex turned towards him and, looking at him, slapped the door one more time as if to emphasize her point. “Milk,” she said in explanation.  
  
Gus nodded his understanding. “You want a hot milk?”  
  
She nodded and, still pointing at the door, said, “Daddy make milk.”  
  
“I think they’re not in there. Come on,” Gus said and took her by the hand, walking off in search of their dads.  
  
Before Gus and Alex could round the corner of the hall, Gus heard his father’s voice drift over. “We should continue this in our bedroom.”  
  
“But I’m comfortable here,” he heard Justin protest.  
  
“But our room is sound proofed.”  
  
“We can be quiet.”  
  
“We could,” his dad spoke, “But I’d much rather you weren’t.” Gus groaned inwardly and stopped for a moment to consider. He could risk interrupting them and possibly walk in on something he’d rather not see. Or he could try and make hot milk for Alex by himself. As he stood there motionless, contemplating his choices, he heard the rustle of clothes followed by a gasp and Justin’s gulped, “Brian!”  
  
While he was somewhat comforted and heartened by the mere presence of the swishing sound of clothes, listening to the next part made him realize that if he was to do it at all, he had to barge in there  _now_.  
  
“Okay, I agree,” Justin was panting, “Let’s take this elsewhere.”  
  
“Yes, let’s,” his dad agreed.  
  
“For that to happen, you’ll have to stop doing this.”  
  
“You mean this?” his father’s disembodied voice asked and Gus could hear the smirk in it. He really did not want to know what  _this_  was.  
  
Justin laughed under his breath and said, “Bastard,” just as Gus reached the open living room, his hand gripping Alex’s smaller one tighter. He wanted to catch a glimpse of his dads first to know if it was alright to let go of her hand before letting Alex rush over to them. He caught both his fathers thankfully fully clothed and released a relieved breath at the sight. His father was sprawled over Justin, rubbing his lower half on Justin’s legs and, as far as Gus could discern, one of his dad’s hands was stuck down Justin’s pants, but aside from that, things were comparatively civil. Completely out of character, Alex, even at the sight of her daddies, did not run over but continued to hold onto Gus’ hand.  
  
“Um,” Gus said in an effort to bring their attention to him and in lack of something more articulate to say.  
  
“Gus!” Justin exclaimed in surprise and pushed at Brian to get off of him. When he spotted Alex beside him, he quickly scrambled to his feet. “Is something wrong?” he asked in full panicked parent mode.  
  
Gus answered, “Alex woke up because she wants a hot milk.”  
  
“Oh,” Justin replied and sagged a bit in relief that it wasn’t something more serious.  
  
“I’ll get it,” his dad offered and was about to get up to do so, but Alex stopped him by pointing at Justin.  
  
“Daddy milk,” she said, her finger still pointed at Justin.  
  
“I guess she likes it better when you make it,” Gus interpreted the objection, directing it at Justin.  
  
“I got it,” Justin said to Brian. He came over to Gus and picked up Alex. “Meet you in the bedroom?” he asked over his shoulder.  
  
Receiving a nod and something that to Gus looked suspiciously like a suggestive eyebrow raise in return, Justin and Alex left the room in the direction of the kitchen and Gus said goodnight to his dad and went to sleep, rolling his eyes at their antics. Sometimes he felt like he was the grown-up here. Not that he’d ever complain. He liked seeing his fathers happy, even if they were embarrassing sometimes. And it was also nice that his dads didn’t him treat like a kid anymore, well most of the time at least. Always when it mattered.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Gus liked to get up early, but when he strolled into the kitchen the next morning, his dad and Justin were already there. He caught the last bit of the conversation they were quietly having, voices still sounding as though they’d gotten up only a couple minutes ago. Gus briefly wondered if Molly was up yet, but then remembered that she was off on a week-long vacation with some friends from school.  
  
“I make better pancakes than you, so what makes your hot milk so much better than mine?” his dad was saying. It made Gus stop just outside the door and roll his eyes. He couldn’t believe that his dad was still hung up on Alex choosing Justin over him to prepare a simple beverage. Actually, on second thought, Gus could believe it.  
  
“You know, when I prepare the batter and you simply take over the cooking, then technically, they’re still my pancakes, not yours.”  
  
“But you brown them too long and you don’t use the right amount of blueberries. That’s why  _my_  pancakes are better. So, what about the milk?”  
  
“It’s my secret ingredient,” Justin answered sweetly with a distinct note of smugness in his voice and with exaggerated flourish that reminded Brian too much of Emmett declared, “a tablespoon of love.” He sighed dramatically.  
  
“Actually, it’s vanilla,” Gus said when he came into the room and sat down at the table in a chair beside Justin’s. His dad’s attention was on the frying pan in front of him, but he turned and looked at Gus.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“The secret ingredient,” Gus explained for his dad. “It’s vanilla.”  
  
“Is he right?” his dad asked Justin who smiled but remained silent. “How do you know?” he asked Gus.  
  
Gus shared a smile with Justin before he answered, “Justin used to make that for me when I stayed over at Britin. We experimented with cinnamon, banana, cocoa, and some other stuff before we decided that vanilla tastes best.”  
  
Gus looked innocently at his father, picking up the fork and knife in front of him and beginning an urgent drum to make his dad hurry up with the pancakes he was making, but his father simply stared at him. “Where was I when all this was happening?” he asked.  
  
“Working late; sometimes even in the same room as us. Or already asleep,” Justin replied.  
  
“So,” Gus’ dad said and Gus recognized it as a diversion tactic, “what are the plans for today?”  
  
Instead of a reply, Justin looked questioningly at Gus, letting him choose the activity for the day. Gus thought for a moment. “Can we go shopping today?” he tentatively asked.  
  
“Spoken like a true Kinney,” Justin chuckled and even more so when he saw Brian’s proud face.  
  
“What’ll it be?” his father asked. “Shoes? School clothes? Shirts? Pants? Sweaters?”  
  
“Actually,” Gus started, “I need a sleeping bag.”  
  
This shut his dad up and put a confused look on his face.  
  
“And maybe even a collapsible tent,” Gus added. “I’m not sure about that one. We should probably talk to Mom first.”  
  
“What for, Gus?” Justin finally asked.  
  
“This new school, well, they do this thing… They organize a trip to the woods for the new students and it’s overnight. A camping trip, you know. They don’t make you go and at first I didn’t want to go either, but Mom said it would be a good idea to get to know my classmates and make friends.” He shared a quick look with Justin, remembering their talk from the previous evening and silently reminding Justin of his promise not to tell his dad.  
  
Gus glanced at his father who had remained quiet and still looked a little crest-fallen that his idea of shopping was thwarted. Gus tried to help, “I’ll probably need hiking boots, too.” Gus smiled encouragingly and thought his dad perked up a little at that.  
  
“Well, alright then. We’ll get you everything you need,” his father said, his enthusiasm quickly growing again. “Good thing you came to your old man.”  
  
Justin scrunched up his face and directed the confused stare at Brian. “Because you’re an expert?” In Gus’ ears, Justin sounded disbelieving to the point as if he had to fight hard not to laugh.  
  
“Well, yeah. Or do I have to remind you of the bike ride?”  
  
“You mean the one where you spent the nights in hotels with room service?” Now Justin was flat out laughing and even though Gus didn’t know why exactly, he just had to join in.  
  
His dad glared menacingly at them both.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Present, August 2011  
  
All too soon, the extended summer vacation was over and Gus had to return to Pittsburgh. His school year wouldn’t start for another ten days, but his ma and JR planned to squeeze in a visit to Pittsburgh before that. His mom insisted that Gus would not get estranged from his sister or his ma. To be honest, Gus hadn’t yet had the time to miss either of them. He was kind of looking forward to the new school year, but he would have liked to stay here with his dad and Justin nevertheless. They’d had so much fun in the past weeks, Gus had forgotten that he would have to go back at the end of the summer.  
  
He knew he was putting his dads through some ordeal, sulking all the time despite their best efforts to lift his mood. Usually, Gus made an effort to be on his best behavior when he visited his fathers. He didn’t do so for fear that he wouldn’t be allowed to come back. It simply came with the territory. For one thing, their time together was always limited to the weekend visits or school holidays and Gus didn’t want to ruin the time by throwing temper tantrums. Of course it came in handy that he seldom felt the need for one. It wasn’t that he wanted to act like the perfect son for his dad and Justin; Gus understood that his dads had it a lot easier than his moms for example. Time with Dad and Justin meant time away from school which in turn meant no need to fight over how long he was allowed to stay up, no annoying homework, no chores, none of the things that Gus hated about school weeks. Instead, there were lots of trips to parks, museums, or playgrounds when they were in New York and picnics, lazing around the swimming pool, ice-cream from the nearby ice-cream parlor, and bike tours in the area when they were staying in Britin. More recently, Alex and Emma had started to play an important role in it too. Gus had never seen them moody and he wanted to keep it that way by being a good role model. Unfortunately, he couldn’t push himself out of the depressive funk he’d gotten into; not even for their sake.  
  
The truth of the matter was: He wanted to stay here. Not in New York necessarily, but with his dads and his sisters. Sometimes he indulged in the fantasy of asking his fathers if he could live with them permanently. A few times he’d even been on the brink of asking. That was back when his mothers still lived together and fought a lot. Gus had never seen Dad and Justin fight; sometimes they were teasing each other, but a second later everyone was laughing. And Emma and Alex provided a constant background of excited chatter – well, Emma more than Alex – but it was fun listening to them and Gus had gotten so used to having them around, he knew he’d miss them terribly. And even when it was quiet, it was still nice. Relaxed. When it was quiet at home with his moms, it was silent; a very different kind of silence. Even JR’s noisiness died down when they fought. So he sometimes wondered how it would be like to live with his dads instead. He knew if he asked, his dad and Justin would not say no. They’d have a discussion first, but in the end they’d agree to it. Gus simply knew they would. But things were different now. His dads were living in New York, at least for now. And his two moms didn’t even live in the same country anymore. It was a new situation for them all and it would take time to adjust; Gus knew that much. But it was just another reason why he wasn’t looking forward to going back home.  
  
He was moody during the last days of his visit with his dads and it showed on his face. The foul mood did not go unnoticed and on the third day of his moodiness, his dad sighed heavily and Justin, apparently fed up with the sullen silence too, said, “Gus, you know we loved having you here, but your mom hasn’t seen you in weeks and she misses you. It’s not the end of the world. The twins have their second birthday in a week and we’ll come home for that. And then less than a month after that it’ll be your birthday and we’ll be home for that as well.”  
  
Justin smiled encouragingly, but Gus didn’t return the sentiment and Justin turned to his dad for help. Most of the time Gus thought that his dad was really cool; except when he was being really annoying. Especially when he said things like he did now, “Gus, you have to go home. Your mom really misses you. And Uncle Michael said your ma is in Pittsburgh. You can visit with them and see your sister. I’m sure you miss her.”  
  
Today was one of the times when Gus felt like he was treated like a child. Grown-ups always said stuff like that. ‘I’m sure you want that’ or ‘I’m sure you’re going to like this’. Gus was sure he could decide pretty well on his own, thank you very much. He really didn’t want to be so bratty, but for once he actually felt like his ten years and wanted to act like it too, complete with being sulky and difficult.  
  
“Dad, you wouldn’t say this if you’d lived with her,” he objected. “JR is really fucking annoying.”  
  
“Gus!”  
  
He didn’t know if Justin was vivid because he’d used the f-word, though he knew his Dad didn’t mind, or if it was because he wasn’t being nice to his sister. It wasn’t even that Gus wanted to be mean to JR or that he didn’t like her; he just suffered from a very bad mood and ranting about JR was an easy way to vent his frustration at the whole situation.  
  
“It’s true, Justin,” Gus insisted. “She’s nosy. She goes through my stuff when I’m not there. And she never listens to me when I tell her she can’t do that!”  
  
“Sisters never listen to their brothers,” Justin tried to help.  
  
“It’s not just me. She doesn’t listen to Mom or Mel either.” Gus saw his Dad purse his lips like he was about to say something. Gus dimly realized that he must have used ‘Mel’ instead of ‘Ma’ again, but right now he didn’t care. “I swear, Dad, the only person she behaves well for is you. And that’s only ‘cause she’s afraid of you.” While his dad and Justin exchanged silent looks, Gus took a deep breath before he continued. “She always acts oh-so-grown-up. She uses those big words when she talks.”  
  
“Well,” Justin said in this patient, reasonable voice that was meant to calm Gus down, “she watches her mom and she wants to act and talk like her. That’s normal. That’s why she uses those big words.”  
  
“But she doesn’t know the meaning of half of them!” Gus cried out. “And god forbid anyone points it out. Then she starts whining and threatening to tell Ma that I used a bad word. Even though I didn’t.”  
  
“God, she sounds annoying,” his dad muttered in Justin’s direction. Gus didn’t think he was supposed to hear it but he did. Strangely, most of Gus’ anger lifted at that.  
  
“Brian!!” Justin exclaimed outraged. “She’s your best friend’s daughter!”  
  
“And he was sometimes annoying too when we were growing up,” Dad replied.  
  
Justin rolled his eyes, then he turned to Gus and said, “Gus, I had a little sister too when I was growing up; and I know little sisters can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”  
  
“Big sisters too,” his Dad added in a barely discernible mumble which earned him a swat to his stomach from Justin.  
  
Gus grinned. Not because of his dad’s addition to the heated discussion, but because Justin usually never used such expressions like he had just now. “But Molly’s cool,” Gus protested. Surely she could never have been as maddening as JR was.  
  
“Yeah, now maybe,” Justin contradicted. “You wouldn’t have said that if you had to endure her following you around and parroting every word I said.”  
  
Gus thought he must have pulled a face at that because Justin looked at him and nodded in agreement.  
  
“Exactly. But you see – they grow out of it eventually. They’re only annoying when they’re little.”  
  
“Emma and Alex are little. But they aren’t annoying. They’re actually pretty cool,” he said and Justin opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He looked a little like a fish gasping for air. It was funny and Gus smirked, proud that he managed to leave Justin without a comeback. Dad replied with a smirk of his own. He looked smug, almost proud, and he ruffled Gus’ hair which he only did when he was particularly pleased with something. So Gus grinned up at him and his dad returned the grin.  
  
Justin looked back and forth between him and Dad until he finally shook his head and left the kitchen, surrendering. “I give up. You Kinney men are impossible.”  
  
Gus and his dad shared a smile before he pulled Gus to him and sat him down on his knees. Gus knew he was a tad too old to sit on anyone’s lap but a quick look around the kitchen assured him that they were alone, so he was hopeful this confidential information would stay between the two of them.  
  
“Gus, you’re JR’s big brother, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Gus drawled, not knowing where his father was going with that.  
  
“To her, you’re probably the coolest person she knows. And she doesn’t want you to see her only as your little sister, so she tries to act older.”  
  
Gus thought about it for a few moments. His dad made quite a lot of sense. “But how do I keep her from going through my stuff?”  
  
“You can’t. The more you protest and scream at her about it, the more she’s gonna want to do it.”  
  
“So what do I do?”  
  
“Nothing. Let her. If you stop noticing it, she’ll lose interest eventually.”  
  
Gus was skeptical. “You sure?”  
  
“No,” his dad replied. “It’s a theory that hasn’t been put to a test yet. But you can be the one to find out. Besides, you don’t live together anymore. She’s only gonna be there for a week.”  
  
Gus nodded and it was quiet for a few moments. “She’s still annoying,” he finally replied defiantly.  
  
“Family usually is,” Dad said. He ruffled Gus’ hair again and gave him one last quick hug. “You’re a good kid, Gus.”  
  
They both remained quiet for a few moments. Then Gus broke the silence. “Dad? It’s not really about JR.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Gus nodded. “Can I go play with my PS3?” he asked because his Dad was so mellow and chances were good he’d actually say yes. And he did.  
  
“Alright. But only for an hour.”  
  
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”  
  
Gus hurried to the entertainment room but stopped halfway there. He would need snacks. Turning around and walking back to the kitchen, he caught a few bits of the conversation between Justin and his dad.  
  
“You’re awfully good at this parenting thing,” Justin said. “Where did you learn this stuff?”  
  
“Natural genius.” Even though Gus couldn’t see him, he could hear the smirk in his father’s voice. “What were you doing?”  
  
“Eavesdropping, of course. What the fuck did you think?” Justin answered in a duh-voice and Gus shook his head. Of course he had. Gus would have, too. Only his dad could be surprised by that.


	6. Chapter 6

Present, August 2011

  
**-New York City-**

  
Justin wasn’t so sure how he’d made it into the elevator and into the penthouse apartment. He dimly remembered poking his head into the bathroom where Molly had been busy giving the twins a bath and saying hello and good night in what he hoped was the correct order. With the last bit of energy that was left in his limbs, Justin forced himself to stalk towards the bed that had never before seemed so far away as it had in that moment. As soon as it came into reasonable proximity, he collapsed face forward on top of it, not bothering with the duvet or any sort of blanket, only having the strength and presence of mind to turn his head to the side so he wouldn’t suffocate. He was asleep mere fractions of a second later.  
  
Hours later, when Brian returned from work close to midnight, that was how he found him. It was obvious from the frequency of Justin’s breathing that he was exhausted and Brian guessed correctly that he hadn’t moved once since falling head first into sleep. Brian considered his partner for a moment, unconsciously chewing on the inside of his cheek. Two possibilities warred for dominance inside his tired mind. He was just as exhausted as Justin and the lure of his pillow was powerful. However, before he could claim even a small portion of the bed, Brian would have to figure out a way to move Justin, since, despite his petite physique, he’d managed to spread himself out on the large mattress like he owned it, leaving no room for anyone else. Not an easy task, Brian reckoned, seeing how at this state of fatigue even the small form of Justin would feel like dead weight. The other option would at least ensure that he’d be rewarded for his strenuous physical labor. Besides, ever since Justin had begun with the actual mural, they’d barely spent an hour alone together. Due to some problems with the installation and test run of the fire sprinkler system at the museum, the insurance provider demanded a safety inspection of the entire building before granting them the license to open it to the public. The opening date had been pushed twice now. It should have meant that Justin would be given more time to paint on his mural, but because of the insurance issue he was not allowed in the building which restricted his actual painting work to merely two weeks, as compared to the estimated four that he’d been assured in his contract. The problem was that he could do nothing to change it. So he was now trying to squeeze a month’s worth of work into half the time; a fact which cut massively into Brian’s and his private time.  
  
Shaking the tiredness he was feeling away, Brian shed his clothes and hung them carefully in the walk-in closet while still keeping his eyes trained on Justin the whole time. As expected, the blond hadn’t so much as moved a muscle. Throwing his underwear in the direction of the bathroom, Brian reached the bed and climbed atop, straddling Justin’s legs and saying a silent thank you to the circumstances that allowed Justin to paint in his old, grey, worn sweat shorts and a simple blue t-shirt that was already fraying at the seams.  
  
Brian grabbed the hem of Justin’s shirt and felt the previous sluggish weariness dissipate completely as he pulled the material up roughly and revealed porcelain-perfect skin. Even though he was driven by urges far more ravenous, Brian couldn’t help but smooth his palms along Justin’s sides, thumbs gently grazing over warm, soft skin. Justin stirred, giving first signs of still being alive, but Brian didn’t pause in his conquest. Tearing himself away from the feeling of Justin’s warmth under his hands, he latched onto the pants before Justin became fully awake. He hooked the fingers under the loose elastic on the back and pulled.  
  
While Justin still fought the foggy haziness of sleep, he felt Brian’s fingers dragging down his sweat pants. The elastic band cut into the flesh of his thighs just below his ass when the weight of his own body, pinned down by Brian’s additional mass, kept the pants firmly in place on the front. Arousal mixed with alertness as Justin’s mind struggled to keep up with the show. He fought to move but was hindered from doing so by the weight above him. Pulling himself away from the remnants of sleep, Justin was just about to protest when Brian’s hands slid up and down his back once again before they palmed the globes of his ass and pulled the cheeks apart.  
  
Justin became very still. Aware of the cool breeze on his exposed skin that was still warm from sleep and the sharp sting of the waistband’s string cutting into his ass and even more aware of Brian’s big warm hands that were holding him spread wide open, Justin held his breath in anticipation and closed his eyes. He waited for Brian to move, to do  _something_ ; but nothing happened.  
  
“What are you doing?” Justin asked, voice raspy and deep from sleep and arousal.  
  
Brian felt shivers run down his spine at the sound of it. “Looking.”  
  
“At what?”  
  
Brian gave no answer.  
  
“You think you might do anything more than just look anytime soon?” Justin asked after a few more moments.  
  
“Can you relax?”  
  
By intuition, Justin immediately knew that it was a request and not a rhetorical question. Battling against his excitement that was, at least at the moment, counter-productive to Brian’s request, he tried to relax all his muscles, sagging into the mattress even more and preparing himself for any attack Brian might have in mind.  
  
He heard Brian rummage between the pillows and blankets. A moment later, a glob of cold lube was dribbled into his crack, some of it landing on his right ass cheek. The next second Brian’s hands were back on his ass, his fingers pushing the viscous liquid back where it belonged and smearing it with rough and urgent moves. Despite the weight on his legs, Justin began to shake from the anticipation. It’s been days since his and Brian’s working hours overlapped for more than a few minutes. And when they did, it was mostly in the morning, reducing them to quick, uninspired hand-jobs in the shower. But that was not the reason that made Justin hold his breath expectantly. He loved when Brian got into one of those moods, the one he was in now – where his need overpowered his finesse and short-circuited his ability to speak, leaving him a trembling, grunting mess. Brian so rarely allowed himself to let go of his control but when he did, Justin was guaranteed a fuck that he would remember and recall during lonely showers for years to come.  
  
Justin had barely finished the thought as Brian pushed into him with no mercy. Not stopping to let him adjust, not even pausing once he was buried to the hilt, Brian pulled back out immediately. Justin had no time to process the penetration before he felt sorely empty again. He simultaneously felt the pain of the stretch and the gaping pull and ache of the loss. He barely had time to moan before Brian forced himself inside again and the familiar and welcome feeling of being filled made Justin’s throat produce a noise that sounded almost animalistic. When Justin’s mind had caught up, Brian was already gone again. Brian’s hands were kneading his ass cheeks and his thumbs were spreading him apart. Justin’s thrashing head came to a rest on his pillow, his hole pulsating with residual pain which was cooled by a welcome breeze on his lube covered entrance.  
  
He wanted Brian so much, he felt his loss deep inside him. It felt like he would shatter or become unglued if Brian didn’t return right this very second. The need to be filled overpowered and extinguished every other instinct or emotion. “Bri-an,” he croaked, his own voice sounding unfamiliar and raspy.  
  
“Mmh?” Brian responded, but in that faraway distant voice that told Justin he was miles away, or ahead, with his thoughts. Brian didn’t move. Hands still holding Justin open, his teeth were clammed down on the skin of Justin’s spine, nose squished against Justin’s back, releasing heavy, hot breaths against the sweaty skin.  
  
“More,” Justin’s hoarse voice whispered.  
  
Brian followed the request and pushed into Justin’s body again. He retreated moments later. He couldn’t stay inside. It was too hot, too dark, too easy to lose himself there. Each time he penetrated into Justin’s core, the swirl in his befuddled mind threatened to pull him under. He squeezed himself inside again and pulled back out. Inside and out. Inside and out.  
  
Justin was becoming frantic. Brian was driving him mad with desire, only giving him tiny moments of intense pleasure and depriving him of reaching the peek. He couldn’t move, couldn’t lift up, couldn’t even spread his legs. He arched his back in frustration, the upper half of his body rising up. Brian caught him with a hand wrapped around his neck and holding him slightly above the pillow. The fingers on his throat were gentle, but the awkward position still cut into his air supply a little. For a moment, Brian was perfectly still, then his free hand slowly travelled the planes of Justin’s back, starting at the top of his crack and all the way to his hair, then down again.  
  
“Why do you have to be so fucking beautiful?” Brian gruffly whispered with his lips on Justin’s ear. “It’s fucking distracting.”  
  
The next thing Justin felt were two of Brian’s fingers, stroking the insides of his channel until they found what they were looking for and pressed down on the sensitive gland. Brian’s other hand released the hold around Justin’s throat and his head collapsed onto the bed. Justin bit his pillow and was glad that it swallowed his screams. Brian’s fingers were gone seconds later, leaving Justin gasping into the cotton between his teeth.  
  
He was dimly aware of the sound of the lube cap being opened, but didn’t turn his head to see why. Then Brian’s fingers, slightly cooler and considerably wetter now, were back again. They found Justin’s prostate again and came to rest on both sides of the bump. They were soon joined by Brian’s cock. The added pressure on his sphincter muscle made Justin’s jaw fall open, but no sound came forth. Brian’s still fingers aided the slide of Brian’s cock und unerringly guided him exactly over Justin’s most sensitive spot on every dragging thrust. Justin lost all semblance of coherency as well as all feeling for time or its passing. He didn’t know if it took Brian twenty thrusts or only two to make Justin come. His hole convulsed violently as his orgasm rushed through his body and out his dick, though neither he nor Brian had touched it.  
  
When Brian felt Justin’s body shake under him, he pulled his fingers free and imbedded himself fully in the hot channel. He didn’t move, letting Justin’s spasming muscles coax the orgasm out of him. For a moment, he thought he’d blacked out but when he came back to again, he was still sitting atop of Justin, still holding him down with a palm on his back between his shoulder blades, still embedded deep inside him. He carefully shifted his weight to his knees and used his hands to pull Justin’s cheeks apart in an effort to pull out as painlessly for Justin as possible. Though Justin didn’t move, Brian heard him whimper quietly when he’d pulled himself free. Brian cringed in sympathy.  
  
He knelt down on the floor beside the bed and stroked Justin’s hair. The man still didn’t move. “I’ll go get a towel from the bathroom, okay? Be right back.”  
  
Justin finally reacted and turned his head sideways, looking up at Brian with tired eyes but with a blissful smile. He didn’t answer and Brian pressed a kiss on his dry lips before getting up and walking into the adjoining bathroom. He came back a minute later carrying a wet towel, only to see Justin hadn’t moved an inch. Brian pulled Justin sweat pants all the way down and threw them over and behind his shoulder, not caring where they landed. He used the wet towel to clean up the mess of sweat, lube, and his own cum off Justin’s back and ass which Justin barely acknowledged with a grunt. Next he rolled Justin over and somehow managed to pull the now wrinkled t-shirt over Justin’s head with no participation from the blond. After a brief pause he decided to use the shirt to wipe down Justin’s front – the rest of what had not yet been soaked into the sheets. Brian contemplated suggesting a shower for both of them, but sensed Justin was not yet back in the realm where he could process such a request, so he stretched out on the bed beside his partner and asked, “You okay?”  
  
“Don’t know.”  
  
At least he was answering. Brian took it for a good sign.  
  
“I’m numb from the neck down. Come to think of it, I’m numb from the neck up, too. Ask me again in an hour,” Justin added.  
  
“You’re not hurt, are you?” Brian asked. Years ago, he wouldn’t have asked, he suddenly realized. He would have had the same thoughts, the same doubts, but he would have kept them to himself; acknowledging them only through a reference in a teasing or challenging tone at the very most. Asking, though still a fairly new notion to him, was something that he learned from Justin and Gus in equal parts. Justin made him understand that there’d always be an answer if he dared asking. And Gus taught him about the efficiency of it and efficiency was a concept Brian could and did appreciate.  
  
Justin heard the uncertainty and concern in Brian’s voice and would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t been so completely exhausted. Even after all those years, some things still remained the same: When the breathing returned to normal, so did Brian’s guilt or self-reproach. The idea alone was ludicrous.  
  
“Brian, in ten plus years, you haven’t hurt me once.” For just a second, Justin was tempted to add, ‘physically’, but he didn’t want to bring up their less than stellar times and, besides, those were long history. “You think I wouldn’t tell you?” Justin laughed through his head shake. “You should know better by now.”  
  
“I was just...” Brian began, but was cut off by Justin,  
  
“Stop with the guilt trip,” he told him. “You’re ruining my post-orgasm high.”  
  
“Sorry,” Brian replied, acting offended, “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”  
  
“I know. And I am. I would tell you if I wasn’t.” Justin pushed on Brian’s shoulder and when Brian let himself fall back, he climbed atop of him and straddled his hips. He let his nose wander aimlessly across the plains of Brian’s chest, sniffing here and deeply inhaling Brian’s unique scent there. “You know how I delight in pointing out your many failures and mistakes?” Justin joked.  
  
“Is that a rhetorical question?” Brian asked, raising his head from the pillow. “‘Cause you--” Whatever Brian was about to say was forgotten as his facial expression changed and his eyes narrowed to mere slits. He glared at Justin menacingly. “Wait!  _Many_? When did they become many? I thought I was perfect. You said so yourself.”  
  
“I did?” Justin wrinkled his forehead in concentration. “Must have been under the influence of powerful drugs.”  
  
“Twat.”  
  
“Be nice to me,” Justin chided unperturbed. “Or I’ll tell everyone that I found a grey hair on your chest.”  
  
“I don’t have grey hair. I don’t have hair there, period,” Brian protested indignantly. “I pay a lot of money to not have hair there.”  
  
“Obviously you’re overpaying since here’s one that escaped the latest waxing and now it came back to taunt you,” Justin replied dryly.  
  
“I don’t have grey hair,” Brian reiterated.  
  
Justin didn’t answer and instead plunked it out, ignoring Brian’s yelp of pain and grinned as he held it up for Brian’s inspection.  
  
Brian studied it carefully, turning Justin’s wrist this way and that way. “That’s not mine.”  
  
Justin looked at him as though he was considering whether he was speaking to a sane person. “Sure it is. See? Here.” He pushed the single hair closer towards Brian’s face, holding it almost under his nose.  
  
Brian turned and twisted, trying to get away from it. “Get this thing away from me.”  
  
“It’s not contagious.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Brian replied. “And you - don’t you spill a word of this. To anyone!”  
  
Justin pressed his mouth to Brian’s and Brian could feel the smile on the blond’s lips. “My lips are sealed,” Justin whispered against the corner of Brian’s mouth. “Besides, one more fuck like that and I won’t have enough functional brain cells left to remember anything.” Justin raised his head and smiled blissfully at Brian.  
  
Brian’s smiled back sweetly and reached out to stroke Justin’s head. When Justin closed his eyes in expectation of being petted, Brian changed directions and dealt a resounding swat to the blond’s naked ass.  
  
“Ow!” Justin complained. “Careful. It’s my most valuable asset and it’s just been thoroughly used.”  
  
Brian smirked and said, “Should we give other equally valuable assets of yours a workout as well?” He leered at Justin’s full lips.  
  
Justin’s mouth opened slightly at the suggestion, eyes already clouding again, and his tongue shot out to drag slowly across his lower lip.  
  
“How’re the plans for the mural coming along?” Brian asked, effectively halting Justin’s movements and surprising himself and Justin with his question. But they so rarely had time to talk nowadays, both of them too busy to keep normal hours at their respective work.  
  
“Okay, I guess. I hope to have them finished on time for the actual painting work to start on schedule.” Justin gave up on his half-hearted attempt to seduce Brian into a second fuck and instead let himself fall back down onto the bed, nestling against Brian’s side.  
  
“And will it be something you’ll want to look at or will you want to set it on fire?”  
  
“Can’t say yet. Commissioned works are difficult. I’m used to putting myself into the painting but that’s not always what you are paid to do.” Justin shrugged and Brian knew what Justin was struggling with. Justin confirmed it with his next sigh, “I’m torn. I try to find a balance between the picture I have of it in my head and the picture they expect me to put up on that wall. It’s personal. Maybe too much so.”  
  
Brian nodded and threaded his fingers through Justin’s hair, combing the strands away from his forehead. “I already knew that.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“Because you’re exhausted,” Brian replied. “And you’re only exhausted when you either poured your soul into the work or are struggling with a decision about it.”  
  
Justin propped up his head on elbow and looked at Brian for a long time. Then he placed a palm on his cheek and kissed him softly. “You know me well,” he whispered against Brian’s skin. “Who’da thought, huh, that very first morning when you couldn’t even remember my name?” He bent down again to kiss Brian’s famous tongue-in-cheek smile from his face, but suddenly halted mid-motion. “What time is it?” Justin wondered.  
  
Surprised, Brian started at the sudden change of topic. Not sure whether he was expected to give an answer, he reached towards the digital clock on his nightstand and lifted it, turning the blue glowing numbers in Justin’s direction. It was long after midnight. Brian was surprised.  
  
“You were late today,” Justin stated.  
  
With a last longing glance down his body at his still dormant cock, Brian resigned to the conversation. “Had to read through the contracts Ted had drawn up, checked up on a few storyboards Cynthia had sent me. I meant to be back earlier, but then I thought I’d make a last round and must have forgotten the time.”  
  
“Don’t tell me the construction guys are not done yet. You said they were almost finished.”  
  
“They are. They’re gone. But the place is a mess. I’ll need to call the cleanup crew first thing in the morning. Once they’re done, I can tell the hauler to finally have the office furniture delivered.”  
  
“Wow. So it’s really moving along?” Justin asked, phrasing it more of a statement than a question.  
  
“I suppose the guys we hired can start their work in a week or so. Fucking time, too. Ted will be pleased that they can finally start earning what we pay them. He’s been riding me about our running behind on the time schedule.”  
  
“What about the manager position?” Justin asked tentatively, knowing that, after about two dozen interviews, Brian was still looking for the guy capable and skilled enough for the job.  
  
“Still nothing,” Brian answered and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Justin wasn’t sure if it was the work, the late night’s hour, or the lack of an ample candidate that made Brian look so drained. Probably a combination of all three, he decided.  
  
With satisfaction Justin noticed that Brian didn’t tense up anymore when he asked question that were connected to the time they needed to stay in New York. Only a few months ago things had been looking completely different.  
  


❖❖❖

  
June 2011

  
“Justin? Are you home?” Brian called as he walked into the apartment.  
  
“In the kitchen,” Brian heard his partner’s voice. “Wow, you look all... I don’t know. Glowy or something. Did you have a good day?” Justin asked him when Brian met him in the kitchen.  
  
They shared a long and tongue-filled kiss before Brian answered. “Hired two account managers,” Brian looked very pleased with himself. “It’ll still be a while before they can start doing actual work, but hopefully not too long. They’re both eager to start working for Kinnetik NY.” Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he let it slide from his shoulders and walked over to the kitchen table to hang it across one of the chairs.  
  
“I’m sure Ted will sleep a whole lot better knowing that you signed them and that things are actually progressing.”  
  
“Yeah,” Brian gave back warily. His good mood had suddenly dimmed and Justin didn’t know why.  
  
“Is everything okay?” he asked. He regulated the heat of the oven and checked the pasta that was cooking in the pot before he turned around and eyed his partner’s stiff back.  
  
“Ted’s probably not the only one, huh?” Brian said and Justin was completely lost.  
  
“Not the only what? What are you talking about?”  
  
“Not the only one who’ll be happy that things are progressing.”  
  
Justin shrugged, even though Brian couldn’t see him. He still didn’t understand what was happening.  
  
“No matter how hard I work, we’ll never be back home in time for mid-September.”  
  
Justin frowned. “What?” When Brian didn’t answer, Justin’s voice got a bit more insistent. “Brian, turn around and look at me. I have no idea what you mean.”  
  
Brian turned and Justin was a little taken aback by the look in his eyes. Brian looked torn; and desperate. Justin knew that look; he’d seen it often enough during their first couple of weeks after the move to New York but he thought he’d managed to banish Brian’s doubts when they had their talk on Brian’s birthday. Justin sighed and took a step in Brian’s direction but Brian’s words stopped him. “Justin, if you want to go back after you’re done with your project, you can do that. You don’t have to stay here on my account. None of us have to stay here.”  
  
“No, we don’t  _have_  to,” Justin agreed, treading carefully. “But we want to. I thought we agreed on that. Brian, I don’t understand,” Justin tried again. “Who said something about going back and what the fuck happened? A minute ago everything was fine.”  
  
“Everything is still fine,” Brian pressed out.  
  
“No, it’s not.”  
  
Brian’s voice rose, “Don’t try to change the subject.”  
  
“I’m not!” Justin almost yelled back. “And don’t yell at me! I have no idea what the subject is, so how could I possibly change it? And why are you looking for a fight all of a sudden?”  
  
“Because you’re not telling me the truth.”  
  
“What truth?”  
  
Brian reached behind him and grabbed a few of the pamphlets that were covering one side of the kitchen table. He waved at Justin with them.  
  
“The brochures?” Justin asked confused, but then, slowly, understanding dawned. Justin waited a second till he calmed down on the inside and a second later he even managed a smile. Taking a step in Brian’s direction again, he ignored Brian’s glare and only stopped when their thighs and stomachs were touching. He reached for Brian’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks. “You are the most frustrating, difficult, exhausting man on this planet and every time you pull this shit it costs me one year of my life, at least. You know that?”  
  
Brian just looked at him, his face a careful mask of nonchalance. Justin knew it was his turn to explain. “My mother sent those,” he said. “Last week we talked on the phone and somehow the topic of kindergartens and preschools came up. She must have gone online or collected those brochures from the schools. I don’t know. I’m not planning on being back in Pittsburgh in time for the new school year to begin.”  
  
Brian was quiet for the longest time but Justin didn’t allow him to turn away from the hold he had on his head. “You didn’t enlist them for a preschool program yet?” Brian eventually asked.  
  
“God, Brian, don’t you think I’d talk to you about it before making a decision? I’m not a single parent, you remember?”  
  
“I just...” Brian began.  
  
“Queened out,” Justin supplied. “My mother’s right though, Alex and Emma need other kids to play with. And since it’ll be a while before we can think about moving back to Britin, maybe we’ll find something here.” Justin had tried an offhand tone, but regardless of his best efforts, he could still feel Brian tense up. Justin knew exactly what thoughts were running through his partner’s mind. It wasn’t just the idea of sending the girls away for a good part of the day or the idea of settling down, even if only temporary, in a place that wasn’t their home. It was everything that came together: from the kids growing up and them being left in someone else’s care and Brian’s almost compulsive control streak when it came to the girls and who said what to them.  
  
Before Brian could come up with reasons why Alex and Emma were not ready for kindergarten yet, Justin pushed ahead. “You know how with me working on that damn mural all the time and you working non-stop, Molly’s summer vacation will be reduced to full time babysitting?” Before Brian could respond to that or manage to twist the whole affair to pile onto the large amount of things to feel guilty for, Justin continued, “Well, my mother got me thinking…” He paused, less for effect than for a necessity to find the right words. “I’m sure Alex would love preschool.”  
  
Brian was, predictably, stunned into contemplative silence. He blindly grabbed behind him and pulled out a chair, collapsing into it. Justin remained upright, watching Brian and waiting. He knew Brian would need some time to process all information. Aside from a highly hypothetical discussion on school education sometime in the far, far future, he hadn’t thought about Alex and Emma leaving the house, their home, to spend the day somewhere that wasn’t and with someone who wasn’t family. It was a strange thought; one that Brian was not sure he was comfortable with. Most of all, he wasn’t sure he trusted a stranger with the care of the girls – they were different than most children Brian had known; though, admittedly, it weren’t all that many, but still. He knew all parents thought their child was special; only, in the case of Emma and Alex, Brian knew it was true.  
  
When Brian’s face relaxed a little, Justin dared to continue. “You know how Alex loves to learn new things?” Brian nodded; of course he knew. “In two months the girls will be two. It’s a good age to start preschool. If we wait another year, Alex will be bored out of her mind.”  
  
“I’m listening,” Brian slowly replied. He was still skeptical, but at least he was willing to hear what Justin had come up with.  
  


❖❖❖

  
One week later Brian had managed to turn choosing the right preschool into a strategical project of gigantic proportions. His desk in a corner of the living room that was usually neatly cleaned from everything that could be considered clutter, was covered by pamphlets, brochures, flyers and information printed off the internet - all arranged into neat piles in accordance with a system that Justin felt too poorly educated to understand.  
  
“The Allan Barrs School has a great art program, but their day is very strictly structured. I’m not sure that kind of environment would agree with Emma well,” Brian was lecturing Justin during dinner. Justin looked as though he’d mostly zoned out, but Brian either didn’t notice or didn’t care because he plowed on, “The Convent Day Care Center sounds actually about as perfect as can be, but they have this tradition of singing their anthem every morning, some religious or spiritual thing, so that’s a no. Lennox is definitely on my short list - great sports and outdoor activities program. But if the decision was up to me...” At that Justin exchanged meaningful glances with his sister before he looked at Brian, raising one eyebrow. He’d abandoned the illusion that his input was necessary a couple of days ago. Again, Brian didn’t seem to notice. “Well, then I’d say we go with Montclaire Montessori School. It’s a bit out of the way which means additional driving, but their program will blow your mind. They teach according to the Montessori approach; they have tons of Montessori items, activities, exercises. I bet they could even keep Emma occupied for an entire day.”  
  
Justin perked up at that. Brian’s praise of a school didn’t get any better than that.  
  
“And Alex will love to learn all this new stuff. They’re dedicated to conserving the natural curiosity in children so that learning is always associated with fun. And they don’t have strictly regulated programs or schedules. Everything is tailored to each child’s needs and progress.”  
  
“Sounds great,” Justin cut in. “Let’s go with that one. Where do we sign?”  
  
Brian rolled his eyes and pushed a leaflet and a brochure across the table. “We don’t sign; we apply. There’s a shitload of papers to fill out and the window where they accept new applications has also closed, so it’s gonna be a little more difficult than that.”  
  
Justin deflated at the news and put on his best puppy dog eyes and looked at Brian. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in the choice of the right school or that he took his kids’ education lightly. But Brian had grown increasingly enthusiastic about the whole idea and his constant research and flood of information exhausted Justin. He also knew that Brian would eventually choose the perfect school for their kids. It was something Justin had absolute faith in.  
  
At Brian’s stern look Justin forced himself to show some more spirit. “So how exactly are we going to get a spot there? Or rather two spots.”  
  
“The school’s fairly new, meaning it hasn’t had the time yet to acquire as big a reputation as other comparable schools, so hopefully their waiting list is not too long. Plus, a little birdie told me that it so happens that they’re looking for someone to redecorate their classrooms. I was thinking you could apply for the job and make them an offer of doing it for free. That, together with a generous donation should do the trick.”  
  
Justin thought for a few moments, “But I don’t know shit about Montessori. Or about decoration, for that matter.”  
  
“Read a book,” Brian waved away Justin’s concerns with a voice that someone else could construe as uncaring or flippant, but Justin chose to interpret it as an expression of eternal faith in his omnipotent abilities. “The question is will you be able to do both - this decoration thing and your mural project?”  
  
Justin capitulated. “If it gets Emma and Alex into a good school, yes.” He reached for the leaflet outlining the general idea of the Montessori education and started reading. Brian watched him for a minute or two and leaned back in his chair satisfied. Already he could see the excited gleam in Justin’s eyes that told him that the blond’s mind was bubbling over with ideas.  
  
Over the next few days Montessori handbooks piled high on the kitchen table, joined by ideas for designs and scribbled notes in Justin’s impatient handwriting. Brian leaned over the stack of books, journals and papers while absentmindedly loosening his tie and studied Justin’s ideas.  
  
Not looking up from the table, he murmured, “They’re getting the better deal.”  
  
“ _If_  they hire me,” Justin halted Brian’s enthusiasm. “I haven’t even contacted them yet.”  
  
“Of course they’ll hire you. They’d be stupid if they don’t. In which case I don’t want Alex or Emma going to a school that is managed by stupid people.”  
  
Justin smiled and set down the bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, Alex’s favorite. He stuck his head out the kitchen door and called for Molly and the girls that dinner was ready.  
  
“I made you a salad,” Justin said with a chuckle as he noticed Brian’s glance at his wrist watch.  
  
While Brian went to get plates from the cabinet, Justin asked, “Are you gonna be busy tomorrow morning?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I thought of driving by the school tomorrow, maybe speak with the headmistress about the twins and the remodeling position.”  
  
Brian thought about it for a moment. “You should go alone,” he said. “My presence might be contra-productive to the cause.”  
  
“They’re gonna know we’re gay when they make the appointment to meet both parents.”  
  
“Not because we’re gay, Sunshine.” Brian waggled his brows meaningfully.  
  
“You count a lot on my charm,” Justin muttered.  
  
“That and you’re going to make them an offer they can’t refuse.”  
  
“Why does that line sound familiar?” Justin asked.  
  
Brian heaved a sigh. “If you’d sometimes watch anything else besides Yellow Fucking Submarine, you’d know.”  
  
“Shut up! You love that movie!”  
  
“You can’t love something you’ve been tortured to death with,” Brian argued.  
  
Justin’s voice suddenly became sultry and he stepped closer, palming Brian’s dick through his slacks. “Now that’s where you’re wrong,” he whispered in Brian’s ear.  
  
Brian knew they weren’t going to finish this, but his body reacted just the same. Right that moment, Molly and the twins appeared in the doorway. Grasping the situation with one quick glance, Molly said in a bored tone, “Knock it off? The kitchen’s off limits, remember?”  
  
Under chuckles, they placed Alex and Emma in their highchairs and started eating.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Present, August 2012

  
Brian decided there was in fact such a thing as ‘enough’ when Justin dozed off during breakfast, his mug of coffee still clutched tightly in his hands. It was two weeks now that Justin was in full painting mode twenty four seven. Brian knew he barely slept four hours a day – and it was day, since he seemed most productive during the night – anxious to finish the mural before the grand opening. He’d known beforehand that the actual painting period would be tight, so it wasn’t like it came as a surprise. And he’d prepared well for it, having the conceptual design and all the sketches and color schemes for every square inch ready. Only, it seemed he hadn’t taken his own mind into account. It was the evening before the day that he was scheduled to begin the actual mural when he bolted upright in bed suddenly and spent the subsequent two nights redoing all of his previous work on the project.  
  
He didn’t explain and when Brian asked what the matter was, he only replied, “This… thing, it’s gonna have my name on a plate under it and it’s gonna be there for a whole while, but there’s no part of me in it. Technically and stylistically, it’s perfect.” Brian had suppressed a smirk at that. Justin was sexy when he forgot to be modest. “But I don’t feel connected to it. It’s dead to me. And if it’s gonna have my name, it’s gonna have to be alive; it’s gonna have to be or have a part of me. So I’m changing it.”  
  
They didn’t talk about it again. Not that Brian didn’t have questions, because he did. And it wasn’t that he wasn’t curious; he did try to get a peek at the sketches Justin was so furiously drawing; but those comprised only little parts of the entire thing. Justin wasn’t really secretive about it, though he didn’t let anyone see the new designs, but Brian was sure he’d show him if he’d asked. It was simply that once Justin had started, there was not much room or time left for anything else, safe for a couple of hours every day where he succumbed to his body’s need for rest. And Brian preferred Justin spent those hours sleeping rather than going over the new plans with him.  
  
Two weeks into the torture, while watching Justin nod off and almost dip into the coffee mug with his nose, Brian took matters into his own hands. “You’re not going in today,” he ordered, jarring Justin awake with his raised voice.  
  
“Huh?” Justin looked around, blood-shot unfocused eyes glancing aimlessly around, trying to determine whether he was the one who was addressed.  
  
“You’re going to stay home; get some sleep.”  
  
“I can’t,” Justin protested, not taking Brian’s objections seriously. “I’m on a schedule. I have to finish it.”  
  
“You will. After you’ve slept. In your current state, you’re gonna fall off the damn scaffolding. And I’m telling you, I’m not going to this fucking parent-teacher interview alone.”  
  
“This thing is only a formality. They’ve already met us and the girls’ spots are secure,” Justin reminded him, but Brian ignored the insert.  
  
“If you fall and die, I’ll drag your dead body along with me; consider yourself warned. I’m not sure what impression you’ll make on the teachers in that state, but you’re going to find out when you don’t get a few hours of sleep.”  
  
Justin rolled his eyes, or tried to, but they wouldn’t stay open wide enough for it. “I’m not gonna fall.”  
  
“Damn right you won’t. ‘Cause you’re gonna go and rest first.”  
  
“I’ll rest on the weekend. We’re going home for Gus’ birthday party, I won’t have to paint then. I’ll catch up on sleep then.”  
  
“The weekend is still four days away.”  
  
“Brian—”  
  
“Don’t ‘Brian’ me. Justin, have you looked in the mirror?! Your mom will have a heart attack when she sees you. Debbie will slap me for not taking care of you and ruin my hair in the process. And you’ll scare away all of Gus’ friends with your shabby chic Zombie look.”  
  
“I don’t look that bad.”  
  
Brian reached for the chrome coffee pot and held it up to Justin’s face wordlessly. Justin stared for a few seconds, then pulled a face at his own reflection. “You start to look your age,” Brian commented.  
  
Justin cried out in outrage, “I do not!” It made Brian grin. The general consensus stated that he was the one with the vanity streak, but the truth was that Justin was just as bad as him. He simply had the advantage of still looking like a teenager. But god forbid bouncers and liquor vendors stopped carding him, then he turned into a worse drama queen than Brian on his finest day.  
  
Still glancing at his reflection in the shiny surface of the coffee pot while trying to be inconspicuous about it, Justin finally relented. “Maybe I can lay down for a couple of hours. If it’ll make you happy,” Justin added in what Brian assumed was supposed to be a complying tone.  
  
“It would. Deliriously so,” Brian replied sugary sweet with a mocking smile.  
  


❖❖❖

  
**-Britin-**

  
Gus’ birthday party was a hit. The late summer continued to spoil Pittsburgh with warm, yellow sunshine and Brian pushed away all negative thoughts of the cleaning crew that would have to restore Britin’s pool area and garden to its former glamorous state after twenty or so pre-pubescent kids had had their fun tolling around every part of it.  
  
“It’s great that Gus found friends so quickly, don’t you think?” Justin asked as he came over with two glasses of fruit punch.  
  
“Like father, like son,” Brian replied.  
  
Justin laughed. “As if. I’ve spent enough time with Michael listening to his stories of your heydays and I know how much of a loner you were.”  
  
Brian nodded and got up as he spotted Lindsay motioning towards him. “I meant you,” he said to Justin. Before walking over to her, he slipped a flat, square package into Justin’s inside pocket and absentmindedly kissed his temple before he turned away. As he did so, he caught the knowing smile of his son and returned it with a wink.  
  


❖❖❖

  
September 2007

  
**-Toronto, Canada-**

  
“Dad?” Gus called as he came to a halt in front of Brian and Justin who were seated on the couch in the small living room. His mouth was smeared over with icing and Brian guessed correctly that the birthday cake would be gone before the evening was over.  
  
Brian was bored to tears. He was happy to see his son and see him enjoying his special day, and of course he was pleased that Justin was able to accompany him to this trip to Toronto in honor of Gus’ birthday, but more than a couple of hours of a birthday party with a bunch of seven- and eight-year-olds was more than he could take. For the last hour and a half he’d been pestering Justin to retreat upstairs with him to which the blond resolutely said no, using Gus as an excuse.  
  
“No, Brian, we can’t leave the party. Look how happy Gus is that you could make it,” Justin told him not for the first time.  
  
It was true. Despite his friends and his presents, Gus’ attention somehow still managed to wander towards his dad every couple of minutes, as if making sure that he was still there. And so Brian stayed. And stayed. And annoyed the hell out of Justin.  
  
“Let’s get Gus to play hide and seek with all of the guests. I know a great place upstairs where we could hide,” Brian suggested and received only a shake of head in return. In hopes to persuade Justin otherwise, and because he felt himself unwatched, Brian pulled out a tightly rolled up paper, held together by a deep red satin sash, and dropped it unceremoniously in Justin’s lap. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Justin’s smile widen as he looked down at the present before reaching for it and letting it disappear in one of the side pockets of his cargo pants.  
  
“What is it?” Justin asked, fingering the bulge the small package created.  
  
“Why don’t you go upstairs and find out?” Brian asked, speculating on Justin’s curiosity.  
  
Justin just laughed and kissed the side of Brian’s face. That was the moment that Gus interrupted them, wearing cake icing and a sugar rush grin.  
  
“What’s up, Sonnyboy?”  
  
“Daddy, why does Jussin always get a present too when it’s my birthday?”  
  
Brian pursed his lips. He thought he’ been stealthy about it but apparently not stealthy enough. His son looked at him with a curious, innocent expression and Brian searched for a reply that was not too far off the truth. “That’s just a thank you.”  
  
Gus’ face scrunched up in concentration. “A thank you? For what?”  
  
“For not allowing you to be named Abraham when you were born.”  
  
Gus’ eyes grew wide and his eyebrows rose to almost meet the hairline. In a horrified tone and with sincerest gratefulness in his voice he turned to Justin and said in a reverent whisper, “Yeah, thank you, Jussin.” He threw himself into Justin’s legs and hugged the blond’s middle.  
  
“You’re welcome, buddy.” Justin laughed.  
  
When he ran away again to open more presents or possibly locate the remnants of the birthday cake, Justin turned to Brian and said, “I have a thank you upstairs for you, too.”  
  
Brian groaned in relief. “Fucking finally.” He stood up and pulled Justin with him, not wanting to wait a second longer.  
  
As they climbed the stairs, Brian threw a glance towards the celebrating crowd. None of them noticed him and Justin disappearing. Leaving behind the noise of the party, Brian focused on the ass ascending the stairs in front of him. It took him some time to learn, but some things were just worth celebrating, he thought, even if it meant going through the trouble of thinking of a worthy present every year.


	7. Chapter 7

Present, October 2011

  
**-New York City-**

  
Justin found a somewhat secluded spot in view of the Harlem Meer, overshadowed by a young willow tree, and looked around, sighing with satisfaction. It seemed half of New York City had decided to play hooky and spend the warm late summer day outside, but Justin didn’t really mind. The preceding weeks had been torture and if it wasn’t for the deep sense of contentment he felt about the finished mural, he probably would have snapped at someone a long time ago. The coming weekend, the doors of the new contemporary art museum would open for the first time and Justin was determined to enjoy the days until then to the fullest. Before he pulled out the picnic basket, he bent down to release the straps holding Emma and Alex in their twin stroller.  
  
“Simmy pool,” Emma said with eyes wide, pointing at the water in the close distance.  
  
“No, Princess,” Justin laughed, “that’s not a swimming pool. That’s a lake and you can’t go in there. It’s not for swimming.” To distract her from a possible argument, he quickly suggested, “Shall we call Daddy and tell him where we are?”  
  
Both girls agreed eagerly. Justin pulled faces at his daughters while dialing Brian’s cell phone number and waiting for the call to be picked up.  
  
“Kinney,” the impatient and almost rude reply came.  
  
Justin pulled up both eyebrows in amusement and adapted a tone of polite distance, or as much as he was able to when he couldn’t stop smiling. “Mr. Kinney, this call is to inform you that your beloved ones have a message for you,” Justin spoke into the phone after putting it on loudspeaker. He held it closer to the twins who took the clue and greeted Brian enthusiastically.  
  
“Where are you guys?” Brian asked, sounding much more relaxed than just moments before, and Justin could hear the laughter in his voice.  
  
“Simmy pool,” Emma supplied again and Justin shook his head and mouthed, ‘No.’  
  
“It’s not a swimming pool, Emma.” To Brian and into the phone he said, “It’s a lake.”  
  
“Well, that narrows it down,” Brian commented. “Why aren’t you girls in kindergarten?” he asked.  
  
“We payin’ hooky,” Alex replied, iterating Justin’s earlier words.  
  
“Exactly,” Justin confirmed and repeated, speaking clearly and articulate as he often did nowadays that the twins started parroting everything anyone said, “We’re playing hooky. And we’re just calling to gloat. There’s not a cloud in the sky and I am finished with both my projects, so I decided to forget it was a school day and spend some quality time with my family. Well, two thirds of it. What are  _you_  doing?” he added teasingly.  
  
“Conducting job interviews while keeping the cleaning crew under supervision. But I’m ever so thankful that you took the time to taunt me,” Brian answered with a great deal of irony in his voice. “In fact, you’ll be the recipient of my showing my appreciation once you get home tonight,” he couldn’t help but add threateningly.  
  
Justin just laughed. “Yeah, love you, too.” Switching off the loudspeaker and holding the phone slightly away from the twins, he added in a quieter tone, “And very much looking forward to getting home tonight.” Justin thought he heard a suppressed groan from Brian before the click in the connection signaled that Brian had hung up.  
  
After he put away the phone, Justin went about spreading the blanket he brought and pulling various containers full of food he picked up earlier. Between his efforts in trying to get Alex to eat something and watching the girls play and covering them in sunscreen lotion, he didn’t notice the time pass and soon it was afternoon and the sun slowly began its descent. Though it had taken hours, bit by bit Alex was getting used to walking barefooted in the still green grass. She hadn’t yet been walking during the last summer that they spent in Britin and when Justin set her down in the grass after finishing the phone call to Brian, she hadn’t liked it very much. It took a lot of convincing and watching Emma running around to get Alex to even try it. As Justin watched her take the first tentative steps in the meadow on her own, he felt an inexplicable surge of pride, feeling like the greatest and coolest father on earth. He smiled encouragingly as Alex walked towards him, laughing in response to his delight. Suddenly her eyes widened slightly and her smile became even bigger and Justin smiled to himself. There was only one person in the world who could put that particular brand of deliriously happy on his daughter’s face.  
  
Justin turned sideways and lifted his head in expectation of a kiss. Brian bent down and complied.  
  
“You don’t seem too surprised to see me,” Brian commented.  
  
“Your daughter gave you away,” Justin answered with a nod towards Alex. It was true enough, Justin decided.  
  
Brian smirked down at Justin and Alex who stood there with raised arms, patiently waiting to be picked up. “Gimme just a sec, Alex,” Brian told her while loosening his tie and shedding his suit jacket.  
  
“How did you find us?” Justin asked while he watched Brian get more comfortable in his office clothes.  
  
“Isn’t this your favorite spot? You wanted to sit here when we came there with Gus,” Brian replied and lowered himself on the blanket, sitting down cross-legged. He reached for Alex and pulled her onto his lap, perfunctorily wiping away stray grass blades from her feet before she could even complain about them.  
  
“Your suit’s gonna be ruined,” Justin commented.  
  
“It’s alright. I can always buy more of those.” He poked through the various food containers and, finding one half-filled with fresh pineapple pieces, grabbed it, poking one piece of the juicy fruit into his mouth and offering another to Alex who took it and nibbled on it carefully. She wasn’t particularly fond of pineapple, but Justin knew that she would eat it - or at least a small piece of it - simply because it was Brian who offered it to her. If it wasn’t so captivating to be in observing distance of Brian and Alex when they were together, Justin might have been jealous of their innate connection. He didn’t have much time to muse on the fact right now though. Brian looked behind him, searching for a tree to lean against, but not spotting one in close vicinity. Instead, he leaned back on his elbows and stretched his face towards the still warm sunbeams.  
  
Justin watched him the whole time, a small smile playing on his lips that all of a sudden made place for the slightly confused furrowing of his brow. “You look alarmingly comfy and relaxed,” he said, phrasing it more like a question.  
  
“I had a good day.” Brian shrugged a one-shouldered shrug.  
  
“What—” Justin began to ask but halted. He squinted again at Brian’s laid-back form and then stated, “You found him.”  
  
“Yep,” Brian confirmed. “Paul Gibbs. Thirty-six. He’s spent most of the last 5 years in Asia, setting up an international branch for another agency. But now he wants to come back to the US.”  
  
“Is he hot?” Justin asked with a joking smirk. But when Brian didn’t answer immediately and instead busied himself going through the various boxes and their contents, Justin’s easy smile vanished and he muttered, almost to himself, “He is.” Glancing towards Emma and back at Brian again, he tried to understand what it was that bugged him. That Brian noticed other men? No, he refused to indulge in romantic schoolgirl fantasies that had nothing to do with reality. Besides, he too liked to look and it had never been a problem between him and Brian; even before they stopped buying condoms. But something nagged at Justin and he didn’t even notice as he started chewing on the side of his thumb. Suddenly, a thought struck him. “Is he a former trick?”  
  
“No!” Brian answered vehemently as he looked up.  
  
Justin hated to admit that he was relieved, but he was. “But he’s gay.”  
  
Brian nodded once in affirmation.  
  
“And good-looking?”  
  
Brian’s answer this time was a shrug, followed by a, “I guess so.”  
  
Justin sighed and bit his lip. He didn’t know and, honestly, didn’t want to explore where the sudden bout of jealousy coupled with those new doubts inside him had come from. He hadn’t felt this insecure in years, a decade almost. “Is he good?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Think he’s fitted for the job?”  
  
Brian watched Justin carefully before answering. “Why don’t you meet him and tell me?” When Justin simply looked at him, obviously not understanding where Brian was going, Brian explained, “I told him I may ask him to come in for a second interview. I want you to sit in on it with me.”  
  
Justin thought about it and nodded. He knew he couldn’t provide a business related opinion; besides, Brian had that covered better than Justin could. But Kinnetik’s team, at least the upper echelon of it, was family. And Paul, or whoever else would finally get the managing position, would have to become a part of it. He’d have to fit it. And judging that Justin  _could_  help with. Determined not to let his doubts get the better of him, he plastered on a smile which wavered for a moment before it evaporated his concerns. “Well, okay then.” Chasing away the last of the momentary misgivings, he smiled brightly again. Looking towards the horizon and the setting sun, Justin suggested, “We should pack up. It’s getting cooler now.” But he didn’t move a muscle.  
  
“Just like that?” Brian asked and Justin knew he wasn’t referring to his suggestion to leave.  
  
“Just like that,” he replied. Scooting closer, he gently pressed his lips against Brian’s and waited for him to respond. Seconds later, their tongues were dancing and both men were panting slightly from exertion and hunger for more. They broke off as Alex, still seated in Brian’s lap, pulled on Justin’s t-shirt. Apparently feeling neglected, she wordlessly held up a book and waited for Justin to take it.  
  
“I guess we can stay a while longer,” Brian said. “We’ll just have to find a way to stay warm.” With that, he pulled Justin closer against his side and waved Emma over who then found a spot between them to nestle into. Justin began to read aloud and stopped only once the light was gone completely and he couldn’t go on.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Brian pushed harder through the door than necessary and Justin cringed as the wood hit the outer wall and bounced back. “You behaved like a petulant child in there. You barely spoke a word, gave only monosyllabic answers and when you did, you were incredibly rude. It was unprofessional, Justin,” Brian fumed.  
  
Justin’s anger didn’t take a backseat to Brian’s though. “The way he was ogling you and your shameless flirting with him was unprofessional too,” he yelled back, not caring for the looks they received from people passing them by down the street.  
  
Reaching the parking spot, Brian unlocked the car and got in behind the wheel. He waited until Justin closed the door. “Have you looked in his file? He’s got offers from at least four other agencies! I was giving him an incentive to come and sign with us in case we decided we want him on board.”  
  
“An incentive?” Justin sneered. “And what exactly would the incentive be? You? Will a fuck around Christmas time be his annual bonus?”  
  
Instead of an answer Brian started the car and pulled into traffic. This time of day the streets of New York City were comparatively empty and manageable, for which Brian was thankful. They drove in silence for a long time, both of them calming down a little, though the tension was still thick and palpable in the air.  
  
“You already decided you’ll hire him, haven’t you?” Justin asked in a much quieter voice, but still with a distinct heat to it. “Why did you bring me along if I get no say in the matter?”  
  
“He’s good, Justin.”  
  
Justin couldn’t help keep the derision out of his voice as he muttered under his breath, “I’m sure he is.”  
  
Brian’s barely controlled anger erupted again. “What the fuck is your problem?”  
  
Justin stared at him in disbelief for a while, wondering how Brian could be so dumb. “My problem? I’ll tell you what my fucking problem is. He wants you!”  
  
“That’s not going to be a problem,” Brian pressed out between tightly clenched lips.  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
Brian pulled to a stop at a red light and considered Justin, pondering whether to grace Justin’s ridiculous question with an answer. Ever since Brian had first told him about Paul Justin had been unreasonably testy. If Brian didn’t know better, he’d think Justin felt threatened somehow. But the thought alone was too ridiculous to contemplate. However, the uncertainty was clearly there, in Justin’s question as well as in his voice and his entire posture. For some reason it only made Brian angrier. “He wants this job more than me.”  
  
Justin scoffed. “Humph, please! The kind of job that any gay man would want more than they would want you has not yet been invented.”  
  
“I know if I try very hard, I’ll be able to pick out a compliment or at least a sort of flattering comment in what you said, …” Brian’s voice trailed off as he noticed Justin wasn’t picking up on the joke. An annoyed honk behind him reminded Brian to start the car moving again. He hadn’t noticed the light changing to green.  
  
Justin slumped in his seat, studiously avoiding Brian’s gaze and staring out the side window. “Do you have to make jokes about it? Can’t you be serious for once?” He sounded resigned.  
  
“No. Because I don’t negotiate with crazy people. And you’re being ridiculous.”  
  
“How am I ridiculous? I’m stating a mere fact: He. Wants. You.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So?!” Justin shrieked, coming out of his defeated stupor for a moment.  
  
“Yes, so? They all want me. What’s different here?”  
  
“Are you really this obtuse? The difference is that he’ll be working here with you. Shoulder to shoulder. Every day. You’ll spend all of your working day together, you’ll celebrate the good days, drink away the bad…” Justin’s shoulders slumped again.  
  
“You of all people should know I don’t mix business with pleasure anymore.”  
  
Justin only shook his head.  
  
Brian parked and turned off the motor before turning to Justin and asking, “What?”  
  
“But you would like to. You think he’s hot.”  
  
Brian shrugged. “He is.”  
  
Justin’s eyes grew wide as he stared at Brian. “Get us home,” he told Brian, not wanting to continue the conversation.  
  
“We’re already there.”  
  
Justin blinked a few times and focused on his surroundings, only now noticing that they had arrived at their building. He reached for the door, but Brian stopped him grabbing his hand and using the other to turn his head so he could look him in the eyes.  
  
With a growing suspicion that made bile rise up to his throat, Brian fixed Justin with a steady glare. A few pieces clicked into place, but Brian didn’t like the picture one bit. “Don’t you trust me?” he asked.  
  
Justin remained quiet.  
  
“You don’t,” Brian stated in a barely there voice, stunned. He released the hold he had on Justin and fell back into the cushions of his own seat, staring ahead.  
  
Without another word, Justin got out of the car and slowly walked up the stairs that lead into the apartment building. Brian managed to catch him before him could pull open the door.  
  
“No,” Brian said. “You’re not going up there before we’ve worked this out.”  
  
“I’m tired and it’s cold,” Justin said.  
  
“The twins are up there and they will not see us fighting,” Brian stated, making it sound like the order that it was.  
  
A single glance at Brian’s determined stance told Justin that there was no use fighting him. He leaned back against the cold bricks and waited.  
  
“So, how long have you been expecting me to go and fuck the next best stranger?”  
  
“I don’t  _expect_  you to do it,” Justin contradicted.  
  
“But you don’t trust me not to do it either.”  
  
Justin shrugged one-shouldered.  
  
Brian shook his head, not understanding where this was coming from. “What the fuck, Sunshine?” he asked quietly.  
  
“Brian, just look at our life!” Justin pleaded with him. “House, kids, family, monogamy. This is nothing like you’ve ever dreamed your life to be.”  
  
“And you know that how?”  
  
Justin rolled his eyes. “I’ve been around you for some time. I remember how it all began between us and I know how much I pushed you, and I remember what you told me and Michael back then. You never wanted all this; you scoffed at anyone who did.  _I_  wanted a house,  _I_  wanted a kid… You gave me those things, because I wanted them. And I know that you love me and what you’re willing to do and sometimes sacrifice for the people that you love.”  
  
“I’ve spouted a lot of bullshit back then and  _this_  you choose to believe?” Brian shook his head again.  
  
“Yes, you say that you’re not bored by all of this. But… I don’t know. I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you’ve never wanted it for yourself and that you only made the compromises for me. I don’t want you to resent me for it one day. I… I just want you to be happy.”  
  
“If you don’t believe me that I am, then, Sunshine, we have bigger problems than Paul.”  
  
“You don’t get…” Justin hesitated, “weirded out sometimes by how things are? Or wish things were different? Wish your old life back?”  
  
“No. To all of that,” Brian answered without hesitation. “Do you? Wish some things were different?”  
  
“No,” Justin replied and smiled. “I’m happy.”  
  
“I am, too. Except for when you start to doubt me.”  
  
Justin thought long and hard. “I haven’t actually,” he finally said and explained, “I don’t doubt you. Not now and not before. I just… get scared sometimes because it’s all too perfect.”  
  
“Weren’t you the one who told me not too long ago to trust the calm?”  
  
Justin grinned up at Brian with a sheepish smile.  
  
“Easier said than done, huh?” Brian wrapped an arm around Justin’s neck and pulled him in. “And I’m hiring Paul,” he added as he directed Justin to the elevator. “And I’m not going to fuck him. Or anyone else, for that matter.”  
  
“Works for me,” Justin replied and gratefully leaned into Brian’s chest while they waited for the elevator doors to open, stealing his body warmth. “Brian?” he asked after a few moments of silence. “I  _do_  trust you. I trust you more than anyone in this world. You believe me, right?”  
  
“I do,” Brian replied. “It’s not like I didn’t know before that I was living with a drama princess.”  
  
Justin was so happy to have the air cleared again that he didn’t even think of protesting. Instead, he tightened his arms around Brian and buried his face deeper into Brian’s shoulder.

 

❖❖❖

  
The museum opening wasn’t even about Justin or his art but it didn’t prevent him from being nervous as hell. No amount of fucking and no amount of comforting reassurances afterwards or calming words from Brian in the form of, “Will you fucking stop whipping your foot while I’m trying to eat breakfast,” followed by more fucking, had the power to make the worry lines in Justin’s face disappear. Well, not for very long at least.  
  
“I’ve seen the exhibit, Brian. It really is magnificent. Yes, there’s also stuff I wouldn’t care to look twice at and God knows I hate this old bat Ms. Ashewaldt, because she’s everything that is wrong with today’s art scene. But there’s so much talent out there and they did manage to bring together some spectacular pieces. The opening will be phenomenal. Not to belittle my own work – I know it’s good – but it only speaks to me. Maybe I should have stuck to the original designs.” He talked a mile a minute, thoughts all over the place, making it a tough task for Brian to keep up. When he started worrying his thumb with his teeth again, Brian watched him do it for all of two seconds.  
  
“Relax. Even if you suck, there’s nothing you can do about it now,” Brian reasoned.  
  
“If this is your way of calming me down or cheering me up – please don’t try again.”  
  
“I wasn’t trying to do either. I just think all this high blood pressure for all the wrong reasons is wasted time. Besides, I know you’re a genius, so I’m fairly certain this queen-out of yours is just a drama princess act and I’ve seen those before. I’m keeping my excitement levels low until I’ve got proof of having been wrong all this time at which point, you’ll understand, I will have to leave you to go find another genius to commit my life to.”  
  
Justin didn’t appreciate the humor and just scowled at Brian tersely. “You haven’t seen the artwork,” he insisted. “The artists they assembled…”  
  
“Yet they’re not the ones that were chosen to do the lobby, were they?” Brian cut him off.  
  
Finally, Justin smiled. It was the first smile all day, Brian noticed with satisfaction and a beginning stirring in his pants. “I love supportive you. My Lancelot,” Justin teased dreamily and earned a swat to his ass for the effort.  
  
“Go dress in something pretty. Has your Mom called yet?”  
  
The opening was black tie and Justin’s smoking hung ready between the folds of the unzipped suit bag. He slipped on the jacket over the white cotton shirt before he started fumbling with the bow tie. Brian snorted at his attempts and spun him around, slapping his hands away and taking over the task of tying a perfect knot. Justin smiled his thank you. It was tight-lipped and short-lived, but Brian counted it nevertheless as the second smile of today and graciously took it as a sign of improvement. “Yes. She’s staying in a hotel only a couple of blocks from the CMA so she’s gonna meet us there. What about Cynthia?”  
  
Cynthia had come to town to meet and break in Paul. Brian had also mentioned that Cynthia was thinking about going to the opening when Brian had told her about it.  
  
“I don’t know for sure. She’s still in town though. So she’s probably gonna be stopping by,” Brian answered and walked over to the window pane.  
  
“Did you forward her the tickets?” Justin stood in front of the full-length mirror, nervously plucking at his bow tie.  
  
“Yes, dear,” Brian dutifully replied. “Stop picking on the knot. You’re gonna ruin my work.” Before Justin could respond, Brian announced, “The car’s here. Come on.”  
  
And just as Brian had predicted, Justin needn’t have worried. Actually, he should have known better. On his worst days, Brian was stunning. When he put some effort behind it and wore his clothes and his impressive bodily stature for a cause, whatever that might be, all jaws dropped and blood rushed towards nether regions with no respect to age, sex, or sexual preference. Also, as an added bonus – or to the bane of his existence, depending on the occasion – nobody paid attention to Justin; or more importantly to his nervousness. Tonight, Justin didn’t care and actually felt quite grateful to be able to hide behind Brian’s enormous ego. It gave him the opportunity to get the lay of the place in quiet. As far as Justin could see, people were milling around in all rooms, clustered together in small groups in front of a painting or a statue or the various other exhibit installments. With equal parts relief and pride he noticed a handful of people standing not far away from him and Brian, staring at the gigantic mural on the wall across from the revolving doors. Justin zoomed in on their faces, searching for signs of distaste but finding none. He spotted two older men, one of whom he thought he recognized as a critic from a New York City based newspaper, talking animatedly with each other and pointing at his work with a pen in his hand. The noise was too loud and they stood too far away for Justin to hear them. Finally he turned and took in his own artwork for the first time.  
  
He’d seen it of course on his computer; and he’d seen various parts of it as he transferred them to the wall. But the scaffolding and tarp that had kept the painting hidden during the process also prevented him from experiencing it in its full and true proportions. Justin had assumed that the enormous, almost cavernous, structure of the entrance hall would diminish the impression of the mural’s hugeness, but as he looked at it now, it seemed breathtaking even to him. Every piece that he put into it seemed to stand out, seemed to scream at him, and Justin became nervous again, being full aware that what he put up there was not what he’d originally intended and presented to the museum’s curators. Though he’d disguised it well.  
  
He was just about to make a remark about it to Brian when he noticed that Brian stood frozen beside him and that he hadn’t moved an inch since they set foot into the building. Justin tried to read his expression but found it difficult if not outright impossible which, considering the many years he spent with Brian and all the shit they’d gone through, unsettled him. Justin opened his mouth, but no sound came forth and he watched Brian’s face for a moment before half-turning and flitting back and forth between the mural and Brian’s eyes.  
  
Justin tried to see what Brian must have been seeing. The partly angry, partly uncertain dark lines in the lower left corner. The grey shadows that dominated a large part of the center and that to anyone who cared to look closer would translate as the skyline of Pittsburgh. The large blobs of red, scattered and fading as the eyes moved to the right. The rainbow of strobe lights. The bright orange of a new day. The lightest blue of a clear sky. They were abstract forms, but they were his life. More than that, they were a testament to life’s potential and a statement of strength and as he continued to watch Brian take it all in, the expression on Brian’s face slowly changed and Justin knew that his partner understood. Every angry scream and every whispered cry.  
  
He waited a moment longer until he finally couldn’t take it no more. “Well?” he asked.  
  
Brian jerked slightly, as if being jarred awake, and his eyes refocused, staring at Justin now. He still didn’t speak a word. He just wrapped an arm around Justin’s neck and pulled him closer. With his lips almost touching the skin of Justin’s forehead, he just breathed.  
  
Justin closed his eyes and, winding an arm around Brian’s middle, inhaled his expensive scent. A minute or two passed before Justin felt Brian’s lips move, his breath stroking across skin and hair. “What’re you calling it?”  
  
Justin disentangled himself and found Brian’s eyes before he replied, “Triumph.”  
  
“Modest, are we?” Brian asked with a hint of sarcasm that lacked malice. When Justin didn’t answer and instead continued to gaze steadily and openly into Brian’s eyes, Brian glanced briefly at the mural again and finished, “It fits.”  
  
“You don’t think it’s too—” Justin began, his doubts showing themselves.  
  
“No,” Brian answered.  
  
“Nobody will—?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“So you think it’s—”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Okay,” Justin said and breathed a little easier. Then, suddenly, he chuckled.  
  
“What?”  
  
“We just had a ‘married couples’ conversation.” He laughed.  
  
Brian glared at him and, after making sure nobody was watching, pinched Justin’s ass which made the blond yelp. Loudly. But it didn’t stop his laughter. Ignoring all stares from other guests, Brian wound an arm around Justin and pulled him closer, directing them both towards the first of the exhibition rooms.  
  
Brian walked aimlessly through the rooms, having lost Justin somewhere along the way when the blond was engaged in an artsy discussion with one of the featured artists. Brian managed to bear it for almost two minutes – an admirably decent time, if he said so himself – before excusing himself. He stopped in front of a series of paintings that, amateur though he was in the field of fine arts, he’d bet any sum that the artist was inspired for by a painting of Justin’s. Or maybe they both were inspired by the same third painter. He moved on moments later, the topic too boring to contemplate any further. After a few more minutes he found himself in the lobby again, mesmerized once more by the sight of the mural. He thought he should be used to it already, Justin’s work often had that effect on him, but it took him by surprise every time nonetheless. It wasn’t even the art itself that took his breath away. After years of being Justin’s partner he could of course recognize the refined brush strokes, the bold choice of colors. But it was the sheer presence of life depicted in pictures, however abstract, that was unmistakably theirs and slightly overwhelming. He felt Justin’s very being reflected in every square inch of the stucco canvas. It was the story of their life, apart and together, years of losses and victories.  
  
“You know what I think each time I look at one of Justin’s pieces?” Cynthia asked, appearing at Brian’s side and jarring him from his thoughts. Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “He was wasting his time at PIFA. I doubt they can teach this.” She nodded towards the mural.  
  
Brian dignified the assessment with a short smile. Cynthia was right of course, but she was also, unwittingly, opening an old wound. His eyes automatically swept the hall and the rooms behind it, looking for his partner, but he stopped short when he noticed that Cynthia was not alone.  
  
“Paul,” Brian said and nodded in greeting, extending his hand for a shake.  
  
“Brian,” Paul replied and smiled. He motioned behind his boss and said, “I’m afraid my knowledge of the art world is too underdeveloped to appreciate fully what your partner has accomplished.”  
  
“I’m sure Justin will appreciate not having to talk shop.”  
  
“I will what?” Brian heard behind himself and turned, extending an arm. Justin slipped underneath and wound one of his around Brian’s middle, tilting up his face for a kiss. Brian tasted champagne on his lips.  
  
“Justin, you remember Paul,” Brian said and noticed Paul’s body stiffening slightly. Justin hadn’t missed it either.  
  
“Yes, of course. I think we got off on a wrong foot which was my fault and I want to apologize. How about starting anew?” Justin extended his hand.  
  
Paul smiled warmly and took it. “I’d like that.”  
  
“Okay then. Hi, I’m Justin.” Beside him, Brian muttered, not really trying to be quiet, “Creative genius by day, unbearable know-it-all by night, and tonight’s darling of the art world.” Justin ignored him while Brian ignored Justin’s eye roll and not-so-subtle elbow to his ribs.  
  
“Very pleased to finally meet you,” Paul was saying with a genuine smile, playing the game. “I’ve heard a lot about you already.”  
  
“Don’t believe anything Brian said. But if it was Cynthia, then I’m sorry if she bored you to death.”  
  
Paul laughed. “Not that you haven’t come up during conversation with both, but it was actually Ted who was the spouting fountain of information.” After a short pause, he hurried to add, “Not that I asked!” A flush of crimson came over Paul’s cheeks that Justin found unusual to see on a man dressed in an impeccable Calvin Kline suit and carrying himself with practiced sureness. Strangely, the blush made him seem not only young, but also likable. Justin frowned inwardly, realizing how unfair he’d been to have been so intent on not liking Paul. “Please don’t worry. Brian’s co-workers are not only loyal to him but to you as well,” Paul added, straightening out his previous comment. He looked first at Justin, then at Brian and what Justin could see in the quick glance made his insides squirm a little but he forced it down again. He knew it was merely a one-sided attraction.  
  
“I interrupted your conversation when I joined, didn’t I?” Justin continued with polite small talk.  
  
“Not at all,” Paul reassured. “Actually, you saved me from laying bare my vast lack of knowledge of the art world.”  
  
“Paul was just about to explain to us why he absolutely hates your painting,” Cynthia supplied with a smirk.  
  
Paul’s eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets and his mouth opened in horror, though no sound came from it. He looked back and forth between Justin, Cynthia, and Brian, an expression of panic etched onto his otherwise classically handsome features. “No… That… that…” he sputtered. “I didn’t… I…” he tried again. Then, realizing he’d just been played, he fell silent and even managed a smile while the others laughed.  
  
When everyone calmed down a bit, Justin said, “This event must be pretty boring for you then, if you’re not into art.”  
  
“Oh no, no. Not at all. I find it highly fascinating. I simply meant that I’m not a good conversationalist when it comes to art and styles and artists and whatnot, since my knowledge in that particular field is very limited to knowing what looks good in an ad and what doesn’t. I’m afraid I judge art by only one criterion,” Paul replied. Upon the questioning eyebrows of his listeners, he explained, “I look at a piece and ask myself, ‘Will I still want to look at it one year from now or will it bore me to death?’”  
  
Justin smiled, thinking that Paul was probably following a smarter path than half of tonight’s visitors, most of who only cared for the price tag or the name on it. “So, what’s the verdict?”  
  
Paul looked at the mural once more, taking a few moments to consider it. “Not boring,” he pronounced. “Most definitely not boring.”  
  
“Thank you,” Justin answered, himself surprised at the sincere pleasure he felt at the compliment.  
  
He was about to strike up a new topic in an effort to get to know Brian’s new right hand better when he spotted a woman moving at a brisk pace towards their small group. Justin groaned under his breath, drawing Brian’s attention. Seldom in his life had he disliked a person more than he did Miss Ashewaldt.  
  
“Mr. Taylor,” she called sweetly as she came closer, “Miss McCallum told me I’d find you here. I wanted to come over and congratulate you on your success.”  
  
For a few seconds, Justin was stupefied into silence. Aside from the fact that he’d never seen Miss Ashewaldt smile before, he also hadn’t expected to ever see the look on her face he was seeing now. He had to restrain himself not to roll his eyes as he understood. It seemed even stiff, snotty, arrogant, holier-than-thou Miss Annabelle Ashewaldt was not impenetrable to the oozing charm of one Mr. Brian Kinney.  
  
“Thank you, Ms. Ashewaldt,” he politely answered with a tightlipped smile. Knowing full well that he was being rude and not caring the least bit what the woman thought about him, he remained silent after that which forced her to glace around meaningfully. With a heaved sigh, Justin finally obliged, “Ms. Ashewaldt, Brian Kinney.” After a pause and an angelic smile, he added, “My husband. And this are his business associates,” Justin continued, introducing Cynthia and Paul. He watched in bemused awe as the woman he’d only seen wearing a sour expression, flirted and joked with Brian, exchanging pleasantries and congratulations.  
  
“Well, I must be off now,” she eventually announced to Justin’s relief. “Mr. Taylor,” she congratulated him one last time, “you never disappoint. I hope to maybe one day see one of your paintings on this museum’s walls.”  
  
Justin had to begrudgingly award her some points. Even her compliments she managed to make sound like a rebuke, insinuating that a painting in her precious museum was worth more than a huge-ass  _permanent_  mural in its lobby. “I don’t know,” he replied with a throw-away gesture. “I have my eyes set on the MOMA.”  
  
With satisfaction he watched Ms. Ashewaldt’s eyes widen in shock, followed by a chuckle when she realized that he was joking. Justin joined in the laugh, though it sounded strained and dishonest. Beside him, he felt Brian adjust the arm he had around his shoulders. Though it eluded the presumptuous woman, Justin knew that Brian had understood that he hadn’t really been joking.  
  
“God,” he exploded the minute the woman was out of earshot, “what a bat! ‘Oh, Brian – may I call you Brian? – Brian, what a talented husband you have!’” Justin mocked in a high-pitched tone, imitating Miss Ashewaldt’s antics, complete with a hand placed on Brian’s arm. “You should have heard how she spoke to me before. Adapting the high-pitched tone again, though now decidedly less sugary, he mimicked, “’You will paint this here, and punch a time clock there, and use this color here. Have you ever worked with acrylic paints before?’” Justin inhaled deeply to calm himself. “She actually asked me that, Brian! Oh, gosh, no, I was only ever allowed finger paints.”  
  
“Yes,” Brian endorsed solemnly, “Is it too much to expect that she does at least some of her homework before an appointment and googles your name? This way she’d at least have known that your repertoire extends to wax crayons as well!”  
  
Justin ignored him. “What did she think? That she’d earn some brownie points with you if she was nice to me?”  
  
“Or maybe her whole opinion of you changed when she realized you have decent taste in men.”  
  
If he wasn’t embarrassed for his impromptu rant before, Justin fell silent the moment he realized Brian was teasing him. “Thanks,” Justin told him with a grim imitation of a smile.  
  
“Also, ‘husband’?” Brian asked with a questioning eyebrow, referring to the earlier part of the conversation, when Justin made the introductions.  
  
“She was salivating all over you,” Justin replied indignantly.  
  
“And you felt threatened?” Another arched brow.  
  
“Oh, shut up,” Justin replied.  
  
Cynthia was barely containing her laugh and when Justin looked at her, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Well, you’re bickering like an old married couple already. So Justin wasn’t that far off.” Now it was Brian’s turn to glower menacingly, though Justin was pretty certain it was the ‘old’ part that incensed him.  
  
Cynthia grabbed a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter and toasted, “To Justin. May the bitch’s jaw fall open and never close again when they gush about your creation in tomorrow’s newspapers.”  
  
“Hear, hear,” Justin replied and clinked glasses. Moments later he was whisked away by Arianna who was pushing him towards a group of people that were having their picture taken. Brian turned him around, made some adjustments to his tie and gave him a gentle push after nodding in satisfaction.  
  
Cynthia grabbed the opportunity that the break in conversation presented and announced that she was going to take advantage of the open bar and invited Paul to follow. Brian wasn’t alone for long. Soon Arianna joined him on his leisurely stroll through the halls. They walked beside each other quietly for a few minutes, both of them nipping on their glasses from time to time. For someone who didn’t know it better they must have looked like an exquisite couple. Brian – tall, dark and handsome – and Arianna, clad in dark moss-green satin that contrasted with her fiery red hair, each a singular picture of sophisticated elegance and, together, of a happy hetero couple. Brian chuckled at the thought. His feelings towards Ari were the same as his feelings towards Molly.  
  
“I hate this shit,” Brian said.  
  
Arianna regarded him carefully. At first, an expression of indignation passed over her features, but it was gone the next second as she replied, “Justin hates this too.”  
  
Brian looked at her sideways. “He loves being the center of attention. He may claim that he doesn’t but he’s lying. Don’t let him fool ya.” He paused while Arianna looked confused. “And for the record, I meant this.” He raised his glass of champagne. “Disgusting shit.” And then, as if to make a point, he motioned to a waiter and exchanged his glass for a red wine, taking a sip.  
  
Arianna laughed in response and picked up the conversation. “I know he likes the attention,” she said. She shook her head, making her gold earrings dangle. “And I know he likes most of the art they chose to put up on these walls. What I meant was that I think Justin would do things differently in the organizational department; the hows and whys of bringing art and art lovers together. If it was his choice, he’d do it differently,” she said with conviction.  
  
“Maybe he should,” Brian answered in a far-away voice, not really talking to Arianna or anyone at all. His thoughts raced ahead. Just as Cynthia did before, Arianna was rubbing salt into the same wound.  
  
“Brian?” she pulled him from his thoughts.  
  
At her questioning look, he shrugged. Letting his gaze wander through the room, he found Justin standing next to Jennifer and Tucker, but engaged in another conversation with yet another reporter, by the looks of it. Brian answered the implied question, “I think he left too early.”  
  
“Left whom too early?”  
  
Brian’s answer was short, but spoke volumes. “New York.”  
  
To his surprise, Arianna laughed. “That why you’re not married yet?” Then she shrugged apologetically and explained, “I caught the last part of your earlier conversation. Sorry.” Brian didn’t care for that but he didn’t want to talk about it so he remained silent. “But, Brian, that’s not really the reason or is it?” she asked in disbelief but with a good deal of hilarity that made Brian fix her with his death stare. She wasn’t too impressed, though she did try to quell her laughter.  
  
“No,” he finally answered, putting as much of his annoyance into the word as he could. “The timing was just never right.” Brian remembered how each time the topic has come up, something happened or came in between. “Maybe we’re not supposed to,” Brian mused, blaming his uncharacteristic chattiness on the alcohol.  
  
“If Justin was here right now, he’d tell you what a load of bull that is.”  
  
“How many requests do you get commissioning Justin’s work? How many offers for a show? An interview?” Brian asked, ignoring her objection, and Arianna shrugged uneasily, knowing that he didn’t really expect an answer to his questions. Brian nodded, interpreting her silence correctly. He made a vague motion towards the art connoisseurs and critics and reporters. “They’re not done with him yet.  _He’s_  not done here yet.”  
  
Ari regarded him for a moment through squinting eyes. “Brian, would you think me preposterous if I gave you some advice?”  
  
“Probably. But I promise to let you finish your sentence.”  
  
Arianna laughed and after a pause said, “Don’t kid yourself into thinking that you get to make this decision alone,” Arianna replied after a moment’s pause to think. “At least that’s what Justin would say if he could hear you. Brian, you know that I’ve been following Justin’s career long before I met him or you, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Brian replied slowly, not having an idea where she was going with it.  
  
“Why do you think I was so fascinated with him; so intent on becoming his agent?”  
  
“You were crushing on him?” Brian tried to joke.  
  
Arianna graced him with a small laugh, but ignored his input. “I fell in love, yes, but not with him but with his art. I’ve seldom seen an artist less willing to compromise and none that were as young as he is. He knows what he wants and he isn’t afraid to use the brush to say ‘Fuck You!’ to all those who dare to tell him otherwise.” She fell silent for a moment. “He knows what he wants.” And Brian knew she wasn’t talking about Justin’s art anymore.  
  
She looked almost wistful. Brian glanced around, wishing Justin would suddenly appear and take over this part of the conversation because, no matter how much better he’d become in expressing his feelings towards his partner, he still felt like a fish out of water when it came to comforting others. And it was apparent that Arianna needed someone to confide in. Brian so did not want to be this person, but in his mind’s eye he saw Justin shaking his head at him in disdain at refusing a good friend this kind of service. Brian sighed deeply, though only on the inside. “Ari?” he carefully ventured and hoped it would be enough of a prompt.  
  
She looked up at him and smiled brightly, shaking off her meditative state. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all philosophical on you.”  
  
“You haven’t,” Brian assured her. “You just look…” Brian was struggling to find the right word.  
  
“Philippe asked me to marry him.”  
  
“Okay,” Brian replied slowly and very carefully. A few years ago he would have made a snarky comment about it. Justin, of course, would have congratulated and wished her all the best. But Brian sensed neither was in order. “He made an offer for Babylon,” Brian said instead and slowly a thought bloomed in his head; he thought he understood.  
  
Arianna’s reaction to his announcement was one of embarrassment. “Oh, Brian, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to be pulled into this.” But she fell silent when she saw comprehension dawning on Brian’s face. “Yeah,” she said to the unspoken sympathy from Brian, “he wants to settle down. Never thought he would want to. And in Pittsburgh of all places. But Justin’s there, so that’s where I am.”  
  
“So, is it the thought of settling down that scares the shit out of you or the thought of settling down in Pittsburgh?”  
  
Ari laughed and it sounded relieved and desperate at the same time. “I don’t know. I always thought he’d eventually grow tired of being too long in one city and would want to move on. I thought the issue would take care of itself before I needed to make a decision.” She paused and twirled a lock of her hair around a finger thoughtfully. “He’s lived in the most amazing cities in the world. Isn’t it wrong that he wants to settle down in Pittsburgh just because that’s where I am? It’s doomed to fail, isn’t it?”  
  
Brian’s eyes found Justin’s in the throng of people and they looked at each other, sharing a silent smile. “It’s been known to work out,” Brian replied cryptically and she looked at him, following his gaze and seeing Justin.  
  
“You two don’t count,” she objected as she turned back to Brian after losing track of Justin.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because you’re… you’re…” Arianna was struggling to find the right words, “You’re… like… I don’t know… fated. Meant to be. You could have grown up on separate ends of the world, and fate would still have found a way to bring you two together. You two don’t count,” she repeated again, after finishing her speech.  
  
“I recognize fear and avoidance tactics when I see them and you, lady, are scared shitless.”  
  
“Isn’t fear a good reason to act on?” Arianna asked in reply. “It’s an instinct for a reason, right? It tells you when you should or shouldn’t do something.”  
  
Silence descended upon them until, surprising even himself, Brian’s measured voice broke it. “Don’t kid yourself into thinking that you know what you want at any given moment.” Something in his voice – the tone maybe or perhaps it was the self-aware half-sigh, half-laugh – made Arianna stare straight ahead, not daring to chance a direct look at Brian before the brunet finished. They both seemed to fix a point somewhere at the far wall. “What you think you want now may not be what you’ll want tomorrow. Hell, you just may find out that the thing you needed wasn’t something you ever really wanted to begin with. I know you like to make plans; I know you like to know where you’ll be in three years from now. But trust me – the best things in life are those that come unexpected and unbidden and scare the living breath out of you – because they’re also the most rewarding.” Brian hadn’t looked up once during his whole speech, and even after finishing, he chose to keep his eyes on the liquid in his wine glass, swirling it thoughtfully. When he finally did look up, his eyes searched the crowd for his partner, but he couldn’t spot him anywhere. So he glanced briefly at Arianna, looking almost embarrassed. He squinted his eyes and gave the red wine such an intense stare as if it held the answers to age-old questions before he drowned the contents in one large gulp.  
  
“What are you saying?” Arianna asked, dispelling the gravelly mood. “I should just live in the now?”  
  
“No, make plans. Go after what you want. But leave the door open for chance.”  
  
“Brian Kinney,” Arianna quietly called out, half in disbelief, half in genuine affection, “you can be quite the philosopher yourself after a couple of drinks.” In a much quieter and intimate voice she added, “Thank you. I appreciate the advice.”  
  
He nodded in acknowledgement and was grateful when she excused herself moments later. Just as he was about to go looking for his stray partner, Justin appeared at his side. He snaked and arm around Brian’s waist and leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder, looking tired.  
  
“Have you charmed the fuck out of every critic present?” Brian asked, speaking into Justin’s hair.  
  
“I think so. I’m all charmed out.” He raised his head to look Brian in the eyes. “Let’s go home?”  
  
Brian watched him very intently, eyes searching his face. Eventually Brian nodded yes to Justin’s suggestion and steered them both towards the checkroom. As they accepted their coats, Brian said, “You know, you really shouldn’t eavesdrop. It’s very impolite.”  
  
Justin startled in surprise but after seeing Brian still relaxed and easy, he grinned guiltily. Then he wound his hand in Brian’s hair and caressed the side of Brian’s face in one gentle stroke. Brian turned his head and looked at him, catching his wrist and pressing a kiss into his open palm. He couldn’t help his tongue slipping out, the tip painting a fine line into Justin’s hand and tickling the skin.  
  
As he watched Justin’s jaw drop a little in a silent moan, he spoke quietly, “I think that’s our car out there. Let’s get out of here.”  
  
Justin only nodded in agreement.  
  


❖❖❖

  
“The… limo… was… a great… idea,” Justin panted between kisses, busy divesting Brian of his tie and shirt; the smoking jacket lay already abandoned on the opposite bench. When Brian’s hands reached for Justin’s fly, he was extremely grateful for the partition that separated them from the curious eyes of the driver.  
  
Brian’s hand finally found its way inside Justin’s underwear and he grabbed for Justin’s cock. Justin bit down on his lower lip, trying to prevent himself from coming too soon like a horny teenager. But Brian’s hand squeezed the tip of his dick so delicately, Justin almost forgot why it was that he didn’t want to come yet. He latched onto Brian’s throat and bit down while at the same time pressing further into Brian’s fist.  
  
“Brian,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop,” he pressed out under his breath, Brian’s determination to get him off quickly making it so very hard to put words together.  
  
“Isn’t that the sense of this whole enterprise?” Brian asked back and chuckled, his warm breath washing over Justin’s closed eyes.  
  
“Eventually,” Justin admitted. “I’m not even completely naked yet and I hoped to make it last longer than a TV commercial.” Justin, despite the strength it cost him to force his lips away from Brian’s skin – he loved the taste of it when Brian was aroused and sweating and burning up with pent up desire – looked up to see Brian’s face, his eyes immediately fixating on Brian’s eyes, dark with want.  
  
Brian laughed at him quietly and with a rough pull on his pants divested Justin of his last piece of clothing, taking care of the first of Justin’s objections. “Even with New York City’s traffic conditions, we don’t live that far away from the museum.”  
  
Justin worried his brow. Brian was right, of course. He had to remedy that. Pushing at Brian’s chest, he managed to scramble out of Brian’s lap and pushed the button of the intercom. “What’s the name of the driver?” Justin whispered in Brian’s direction. Brian might have been very good at forgetting the names of his tricks the moment he was done with them, but Justin knew he made it a habit to know everyone’s he worked with by heart.  
  
“Anton,” Brian replied while leisurely reaching for his cock and starting to pump it teasingly.  
  
“Anton?” Justin spoke into the intercom. “Would you mind taking the scenic route?”  
  
“Sure thing, Mr. Taylor,” came the reply. Justin was sure Anton had a pretty good idea what he wanted and why, but he was too busy watching Brian’s dick pop rhythmically in and out between Brian’s fingers to care.  
  
“Brian?” Justin asked as he continued to watch with rapt attention.  
  
“Hmm?” Brian hummed, eyes closed and tongue slipping out to moisten his lips.  
  
“I wanna fuck you,” Justin said hoarsely. His eyes still remained trained on Brian’s dick, dark red now, but Brian had stopped stroking it now and instead was focusing on Justin. He looked like he wanted to jump Brian and couldn’t help his mouth watering at the sight.  
  
“You always do after you had critics fawn over you,” Brian replied with a smirk.  
  
“I’ll be gentle,” Justin promised, though the wild look in his eyes made him a liar.  
  
And for once Brian didn’t mind. “I’d rather you weren’t,” he gave back.  
  
“That a yes?” Justin asked.  
  
“Only if you suck me first,” Brian answered and, without waiting for Justin’s reaction, leaned back and got more comfortable on the seat, closing his eyes and spreading his legs further to accommodate Justin. A second later Brian felt his cock slide down Justin’s throat. God! It felt like Brian was sliding into hot lava. Justin’s teeth scraped lightly along the base of Brian’s cock, making the man shudder.  
  
Justin pulled off. “Don’t come,” he cautioned Brian and dived back down again, taking Brian deep.  
  
“Don’t swallow,” Brian gave back. One moment later he swore loudly as Justin’s throat constricted around the over-sensitive head of his cock. He bit down on his lips in an attempt not to come and could almost taste blood. Cold chills ran up and down his back as he held as still possible, afraid even the slightest movement would trigger his orgasm. “Fucker,” he eventually breathed when he felt it safe to move a muscle again.  
  
Justin laughed in response and Brian felt the vibrations down to his core. His body froze again, trying to exert some control. But Justin wasn’t letting up so Brian had to grab his hair and pull him off. He bit down on Justin’s chin in revenge for the torture and turned him around to retaliate. Justin had barely time to yelp before he found himself straddling Brian’s shoulders. He held still waiting for Brian’s mouth to descend on him but nothing happened; Justin could only feel Brian’s hot breath waft over his inner right thigh. Irritated, Justin looked down and between his legs. His whole body shook, partly from the strain of holding it up and partly from the expectation of burying himself inside Brian in only a few moments.  
  
All he could see was Brian’s face staring in rapture at Justin’s balls and hole. The look he was wearing made his determination waver and he was almost ready to beg him to be fucked. But then he concentrated on what was right in front of his face and he couldn’t think much of anything anymore aside from Brian’s purple dick, glistening with pre-cum and his own saliva.  
  
Brian let himself enjoy the ministrations for a few minutes, now that he wasn’t in imminent danger of coming anymore. He sighed when Justin’s talented tongue licked him all over, moaned when Justin sucked on the tip of his cock, and groaned when he took him to the back of his throat again. Feeling goose bumps erupt all over his arms and legs, Brian slowly felt his blood pressure rise again. When Justin’s tongue pressed into the most sensitive spot just underneath the crown, Brian’s head bucked upwards.  
  
He was about to repay Justin the same way, but had a better idea. Instead of taking Justin’s leaking cock into his mouth he stuck out his tongue and with its tip slowly traced the warm, damp, wrinkly skin of Justin’s full sac. He licked them all over and when they were sufficiently wet blew cool air over them, enjoying Justin’s respondent tremors. Brian was careful to avoid Justin’s cock and, though he very much wanted to, he kept away from his hole as well. Brian knew that Justin hated having his balls played with when it wasn’t being followed by more action. But Brian also knew that Justin wouldn’t protest because he wanted to fuck Brian so very badly. Through the haze of lust and want, Brian spared a thought for Justin’s sometimes still so weird behavior. It amused him to no end that Justin still sometimes asked. As if Brian would ever say no.


	8. Chapter 8

Present, Spring 2012

  
**-Britin-**

  
Brian held Emma by her ankles and walked slowly behind her as she stalked through the room on her hands, half of his attention on his daughter, the other half on the voice in his ear, talking to him through the headset. It was six months ago that Brian had handed over the reins of Kinnetik NY to Paul but only the first time that Brian spent more than a weekend away from his new enterprise. During the seven days that Justin and Brian spent in Britin, Paul had been forced to phone in and make a report every day at noon. And though Justin knew that Paul had long ago learned not to take Brian’s controlling streak personally, Justin still couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  
  
He set down the plates on the kitchen table and went to get the two cups of coffee. Justin didn’t mind Brian working on their days off, but did he have to do it before breakfast? Sneaking up on him from behind, he gently ran his fingertips up Brian’s exposed neck. Brian stilled and arched his back at the sensation, leaning into the touch.  
  
“Come eat with us,” Justin whispered into the ear that wasn’t occupied by the bluetooth earpiece device.  
  
Brian nodded and pulled Emma up, spinning her upright and passing her to Justin. He finished his conversation with Paul and sat down at the table beside Alex’s chair.  
  
“Tucker called. He will be here in a minute to take the girls to Mom,” Justin said while inhaling the smell of his coffee. “When do you think you’ll be finished?”  
  
“It shouldn’t take longer than 2 or 3 hours,” Brian replied. “Why?”  
  
It was time for Brian’s semi-annual cancer screening and Justin knew that he liked to do those on his own. It was one of the reasons why they had come to spend a week in Britin before returning to their home in New York. It was springtime which Justin loved to spend in their house, watching the snow melt and make room for flowers and greens. He would have loved to stay, but Brian still seemed reluctant leaving Paul completely on his own yet.  
  
“I don’t know how long my appointment will take, but if I can’t pick up the girls in time and you won’t be done by then either, Molly suggested she could stop by Mom’s and treat the twins to an ice-cream.”  
  
Brian did a rough calculating in his head. Jennifer wanted to see the girls, that’s why she’d insisted to spend the morning with them, but she had an appointment in the early afternoon and Justin’s meetings with Sydney Bloom tended to run anything from five minutes to five hours. “Tell your sister to pick them up and I’ll give Molly a call as soon as I’m done,” Brian suggested.  
  
“Alright,” Justin agreed. “Let me know as soon as you do. I’ll leave my cell on,” he said and Brian knew that Justin wasn’t talking about the girls anymore.  
  
“Always do,” Brian answered and grabbed Justin’s outstretched hand, squeezing it briefly. Despite having been cancer-free for almost seven years now, neither Brian nor Justin took their luck for granted, though both tried not to get worked up about today’s appointment.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Justin awoke to an empty bed. Brian’s side of the mattress was cold so he figured that Brian must have been gone from it for a long time. Justin sighed and thought a moment about whether or not to follow his partner, wherever he might have gone. In New York, the possibilities were admittedly limited. He would either find Brian in the kitchen, the living room, or outside on the rooftop patio. But with Britin? It was entirely possible that Justin could spend ages searching for Brian and not finding him.  
  
If it was any other time, Justin would simply go back to sleep, trusting that Brian would be back in their bed when he woke up again. But for the last two days, ever since he came back from his appointment, Brian had behaved strangely. It was barely noticeable, hardly more than a feeling or a slight change of mood. But it was enough to rob Justin of his sleep and there wasn’t much that accomplished that. Had Brian told him the entire truth? Had the tests really all come back clean? He trusted that Brian told him the truth; but maybe the doctor had mentioned something else that Brian hadn’t shared yet? One thing was for sure - Justin was done waiting for Brian to tell him what was wrong; he was determined to find out.  
  
Wrapping himself in the covers, because he wasn’t going to abandon their warmth for the cold silk robe that hung on the dresser’s door, he pushed his feet into his slippers, the ones that Daphne bought him once and which Brian loved to make fun of him for because they had pink glitter on the seams, and adjusted the thermostat beside the door before going in search for his partner. First, he slipped into the twins’ room, checking on them and making sure that they weren’t the reason that Brian was out of bed. But both girls were sleeping soundly, so Justin backed quietly out of the room again.  
  
He checked his studio, the entertainment room, the patio from the dining room and the large balcony on the second floor, the kitchen. He even poked his head out the main entrance.  
  
“I’m in here,” he heard Brian’s voice call as he crossed the hallway leading from the kitchen to the dining room. The voice came from Brian’s home office.  
  
“I was looking for you,” Justin said unnecessarily as he walked into the room.  
  
“I heard,” Brian gave back.  
  
Justin made his way over to the couch where Brian was sitting with his head reclined on the backrest. “Why are you hiding in he—” he stopped and sniffed. “Brian, what’s wrong?”  
  
“Would you believe me if I said nothing?” Brian gave back and raised his head to look at him.  
  
“No,” Justin answered and sat down beside him. “You’ve been smoking.” It was said as a simple statement with no disapproval in his tone.  
  
Brian replied with a huffed laugh. “I’ve been known to do that occasionally.”  
  
“Not since the girls were born you haven’t,” Justin disagreed. “Well, pot – yes,” Justin amended the next second. “But I don’t smell any of that.” He sniffed around some more just to be totally sure. “I didn’t know we even had cigarettes in the house.”  
  
“We didn’t,” Brian confirmed. “Picked them up when I was out.”  
  
“Two days ago.” It wasn’t a question. Brian had been working all day yesterday and today they’d spent the entire day together, just them, Gus, and the girls; Justin would have noticed if Brian had sneaked off somewhere.  
  
“What did the doctor say?” Justin asked, stealing himself for anything and trying hard not to sound resigned.  
  
“What?” Brian started. Then comprehension dawned and he shook his head. “No. I’m fine, really. It’s nothing the doctor said. I am healthy. I’d never keep you in the dark about that.”  
  
Justin released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. His eyes closed in relief. After being quiet for several minutes, Justin tensed again and said, “I can think of only one person who has the power to make you retreat into yourself like that.” Brian remained silent and Justin took it for consent. He made himself more comfortable, pulling his feet under him on the couch and curling up with his head in Brian’s lap. “How’d you run into her?” he asked.  
  
Brian sighed deeply. He threaded his hand through Justin’s messy hair and let it slide deeper down Justin’s neck and under the layers of blankets, finally coming to rest between the blond’s shoulder blades. His fingers stroked slow circles as he began to talk.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Two days ago

  
“I’m at the café but I don’t see any of you,” Brian spoke into his phone.  
  
“Oh, um, yeah,” Molly replied, “you were running a bit late and I remembered that I needed something from the drug store down the street. We’re still there, but I’m almost at the checkout line. Two more minutes, alright? Order a coffee; we’ll be there right away.”  
  
Brian was about to agree when he remembered that Justin was running low on his allergy meds and with the beginning of spring, nature started to bloom and blossom all around them again; Justin would need his sprays and eyedrops soon and no doubt would forget to pick them up until it was too late. “Don’t rush,” Brian said to Molly. “I’ll meet you there.”  
  
“Okey-dokey,” Molly sing-songed.  
  
Brian found a parking space close to the entrance and went inside, in search of his kids and his almost-sister-in-law. The store was larger than it seemed from the outside and Brian had to hunt down quite a few isles before he found Molly, cowered down in front of the twin stroller, holding up two lipsticks for Emma and Alex to see.  
  
“So, which one do you think I should get?” she was asking them.  
  
“The one with the more outrageous name,” Brian suggested.  
  
Molly checked the bottom sticker on both. “’Harlot Nude’ it is.” She rose to greet Brian with a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Brian. Gay men really are the best shopping advisers.”  
  
“When your brother or mother ever see—” Brian didn’t need to finish.  
  
“You had nothing to do with it,” Molly solemnly proclaimed, zipping her lips and grinning.  
  
Brian bent down to kiss first Emma and then Alex hello. “I can take over from here if you’ve got somewhere to be,” Brian offered motioning towards the girls.  
  
“Nah, it’s okay,” Molly waved his offer aside. “Besides, I know how much you hate to push the stroller.” With that, she grabbed its handles and pushed forward, Brian following closely behind. “Where do you need to go?” Molly asked as she reached the end of the isle, turning her head halfway around to look at Brian.  
  
“The pharmacy,” Brian replied, his voice tapering off at the end.  
  
Alarmed at the tone, Molly’s whipped around. “Were your tests—” But she didn’t get to finish her sentence as she noticed Brian’s eyes staring straight ahead, fixing a spot in front of them. Molly followed his gaze.  
  
“Oh, but you two are precious,” the woman cooed, bending down slightly to have a better look at the girls strapped into the twin stroller. She didn’t look a day older than when Brian had seen her last. Alcohol must act as some kind of conservation, Brian decided. She straightened up and looked at her son, plastering a smile to her face that was so fake, Brian wondered why she even bothered. “Hello, Brian.”  
  
“Mom,” he curtly replied, copying her stiff nod.  
  
“Your girls are beautiful,” she said to Molly. “They look very much like you. You must have had them at a very young age though.”  
  
Molly who was blessed with the same gift as her brother of looking all of 16 at an age of twenty, could only react with a slack jaw. “Oh, no. I’m not…”  
  
Brian cut her off. “I don’t think it’s any of anyone’s business who had whom at what age, don’t you, Mom?” he asked pointedly.  
  
She replied with another one of her fake and tight-lipped smiles, “I suppose not.” She cleared her throat. “How have you been?”  
  
Instead of answering her, Brian turned to Molly. “Do you mind waiting in the car?” He passed her his car keys and gestured towards the twins to make sure she understood to take the girls with her.  
  
Molly’s eyes were wide; she clearly didn’t understand what was happening but she nodded, accepted the keys, and turned the stroller around, about to walk off in the opposite direction.  
  
“Daddy,” Alex wailed and extended her arms towards Brian when she realized they were leaving without him. Her lower lip quivered dangerously and she was straining against the straps of her seat.  
  
Brian glanced to his mother whose eyes had gotten wide as saucers and who was looking like she was about to faint, but Brian paid no attention to her. He lowered himself on one knee and stroked one hand over Alex’s hair, kissing her forehead. “It’s okay, baby. Go with Aunt Molly, okay? I’ll be there in a moment. I promise. Alright?” Alex nodded sadly, but she wasn’t in imminent danger of crying anymore. “Good girl,” Brian whispered close to her ear, kissing her again.  
  
Rising to his full height, he said to Molly, “I’m parked right out front. You can’t miss it.”  
  
“Okay,” she muttered and left, glancing back a couple of times.  
  
Brian watched Joan as she watched all three girls leave. “I don’t understand,” she said when they turned the corner and were lost from sight. “ _Aunt_?  _Daddy_? How? Brian, what’s going on?”  
  
“What do you think is going on, Mom?” Brian replied sarcastically.  
  
“Those little girls – they were not yours, were they?” Joan seemed determined to be as thick-headed as possible, Brian guessed.  
  
“No, Mom, I kidnapped them from a very friendly happy hetero couple.” Brian rolled his eyes. “Of course they’re mine,” he said, not about to explain further or clear up her confusion. They were his by all means that counted to him emotionally or to the state legally and he wasn’t about to include her definitions.  
  
“But… How… I thought you were… But… that’s impossible. I can’t believe you would do such a thing,” she spluttered.  
  
“Which  _thing_? Being gay and dare having kids? I know you’ve internalized the teachings of the bible, but surely the modern findings in the field of human biology have not gone unnoticed by you?”  
  
She grimaced in distaste; maybe at his derisive tone, but probably because he’d brought up a topic she’d rather forget or ignore. “Not telling your mother,” she clarified. “It is not right to keep me out of your life like that. If they are your children—”  
  
“If?” Brian interrupted. “You think I’m lying? Or would you prefer if I did?”  
  
“Brian, please. Spare me your sarcasm. I simply meant it’s not right that you didn’t tell your family. I would like to know them,” she said, making a vague motion towards the isle where Molly had disappeared with the girls.  
  
“Why? You never cared to know me,” Brian spoke and hated the bitterness in his voice.  
  
“That’s not true,” Joan protested.  
  
“When was the last time we saw each other, Mom? Five, six years ago? And do you remember the occasion?”  
  
“I have tried to see you,” Joan replied, albeit much more quietly. She gained volume and posture when she continued, “I’ve been by your loft a few times.”  
  
“We don’t live there anymore,” Brian unnecessarily pointed out.  
  
“I noticed.” Then, quietly, she said, “ _We_.” It wasn’t phrased like a question. Brian simply shrugged instead of giving a reply. “The young blond boy you had with you?”  
  
“He’s a man now.”  
  
Joan nodded, hand fiddling nervously with the cross she wore on a chain around her neck. Her eyes were clouded by a far-away look for a few seconds then darted about as emotions that Brian couldn’t discern played across her face. The longer the silence between them continued, the more Brian’s adapted to the sight. It was the equivalent of saying a word one too many times until it’s lost its meaning and sounded strange to your ears. That’s how he was seeing Joan now. And she had become Joan, not his mother. He saw a woman, old, lonely, bitter, blind to the admittedly few chances life had given her. Her eyes were dead and her stance, though stiff, spoke of a bone-deep tiredness. She wore a cheap polyester blazer over an equally cheap, flower patterned blouse. The strap of her handbag was beginning to fray, a few single threads coming loose. A sudden and strong surge of pity threatened to drown Brian and he blinked a few times to keep it at bay, so foreign was the feeling when it came to his mother. As if her son’s resurgence from his pitying contemplations jarred her awake as well, she suddenly stopped fiddling with the crucifix, adjusted the strap of her handbag across her shoulder and, looking Brian squarely in the eyes, asked, “Are you happy, Brian?”  
  
For a moment, Brian was thrown. She’d never asked this question before. But he didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he remembered last night when Alex and Emma had played peek-a-boo under the duvet with each other while Justin tried to sketch them and Brian sat in the corner of the bed, reading Cynthia’s weekly report. It had been quiet save for the twins’ giggles and Justin’s laughing eyes. “Yes.”  
  
“Well, then I’m glad. And maybe we can get together some time. You could visit me,” she suggested. “Maybe you could bring the girls with you.”  
  
“Why?” Brian was confused.  
  
Joan looked at him strangely, not understanding Brian’s confusion at her request. “I would like to get to know them, of course. I’m their grandmother. Are you going to keep their Grandma away from them?”  
  
Brian smiled bleakly, all pity gone already. There was no common ground between them and every word out of her mouth made it that much clearer to him. “First, no, you’re not. And second, they already have a grandmother. Two, in fact.” God knew Debbie and Jennifer were two of the best grandmas in the world. And no child deserved to be burdened with someone like Joan Kinney. “And while we’re in a sharing mood: I also have a son.”  
  
“A baby boy?” Joan croaked.  
  
“Not quite. He’ll be twelve this summer.”  
  
Brian derived a perverse sense of satisfaction watching Joan’s eyebrows rise up so high they almost touched her hairline.  
  
“I have another grandson and you didn’t even care to let me know. All this time,” she muttered to herself. Brian remained quiet watching her. What was there to say? Joan’s expression hardened. “I see you’re just as stubborn and selfish as you’ve always been. I thought that now that you’re a parent too, you would understand that everything I did was because I wanted what’s best for you.”  
  
Brian’s anger came quickly and violently. He barely controlled himself as he hissed out between pressed teeth, “It is  _because_  I have a child that I know just how big a load of bullshit all your so called family values were. It is _because_  I am a parent that I know that you never really were one. Make no mistake, Mom, just because we’re able to communicate somewhat civilly with each other, doesn’t mean I want you to be part of my life. Or my children’s.”  
  
She steeled herself and became the iron statue Brian had known her as for most of his life. “I see,” she spoke coldly.  
  
Brian could have said more. That he would never allow her to meet his kids; that he would fight tooth and nail to keep her away from them if she even tried. He didn’t enjoy seeing her so broken. But he would never do anything that would jeopardize the happiness of his family, of which she no longer was a part.  
  
“Well, it was good seeing you,” Joan offered as a good-bye.  
  
Brian simply nodded, not able to return the sentiment. He watched his mother stalk away and took one last good look. He didn’t think he was ever going to see her again. Not in this life.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Present, Spring 2012

  
“She‘s your mother, Brian. It’s alright to feel sad or angry,” Justin said when Brian finished retelling his encounter with Joan.  
  
“That’s just it. I don’t feel either.” Brian raised his head to look at Justin. Sometime during Brian’s story, Brian had scooted down to lie flat on his back on the sofa with Justin lying on top of him, nestled comfortably between his legs. Brian’s fingers painted weird patterns on Justin’s scalp which made Justin almost purr with contentment.  
  
“Then why were you sitting here alone if you could have been up in bed with me?”  
  
“Fucked if I know,” Brian replied, shaking his head. He stopped massaging Justin’s scalp for a few moments . “It’s bullshit. And a waste of time.”  
  
“What is?”  
  
“Having this conversation when I could be fucking you.” Brian let one of his hands travel under the blanket and down Justin’s back till he reached the waistband of his boxer briefs. His palm cupped Justin’s ass, one finger diving into Justin’s warm cleft but not further. Justin resisted his instinct to move into the touch. He knew it was Brian’s deflecting mechanisms showing again, but they’d long ago passed the point where he would allow Brian to get away from this talk so easily.  
  
“You still get to fuck me  _after_  we had this conversation,” Justin pointed out.  
  
Brian sagged back into the couch cushions, frustrated and resigned. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”  
  
Justin crawled up a bit and flopped around onto his side, pulling Brian with him. He’d lived with Brian long enough to know that words would come easier if Brian didn’t have to look Justin in the eye. Pressing his back against Brian’s chest, Justin said, “I don’t want you to say anything. I just want you to acknowledge that it’s alright that seeing your mother again left you a bit unsettled. That you weren’t unaffected by it. You’re not a lesser man because of it.”  
  
Brian shook his head. “But I was,” he insisted. He sounded like he meant it, but Justin wasn’t sure if it was just years of practice or if he really believed it. “The woman might as well have been a stranger.” After a pause, he continued, “She looked like one too. I mean, she hasn’t changed much; she’s still the same, down to the slightly disgusted expression on her face and the cross dangling from her necklace. But when I looked at her, there was one moment when she didn’t look like my mother at all. She just looked like an ageing woman who had never known any joy in her life. She looked old. And unhappy. And I realized that that’s exactly how she must have looked the last twenty or so years but she seemed suddenly foreign to me. As if she’d changed; only she hasn’t.”  
  
“Maybe it’s you who changed,” Justin ventured.  
  
Brian considered this. Maybe Justin was right. Still his mind wouldn’t let go of the image of his mother looking lost and lonely. “All her life she’d been so concerned about keeping up appearances, clung so desperately to her precious illusions, she’d sacrificed her own life for it.” In a way, Brian thought, he hadn’t acted all this different from his mother before he met Justin – more concerned with his image and how others would see him than with his own happiness. But there was one major difference: Brian managed to let go while Joan continued to cling to her beliefs. “Everyone abandoned her. All she has left is the alcohol.” After a pause, he remembered, “Oh, and God.” Brian gave a humorless laugh and Justin felt him shake his head again. “She told me once I was going to hell. Actually, she told me several times.”  
  
Brian was quiet for some time and so was Justin, hanging onto his thoughts. Justin couldn’t imagine telling Gus something like that. Or… his thoughts wandered one floor up to the twins’ nursery. No, he couldn’t imagine ever saying something to his children to purposefully hurt them.  
  
“Whenever she told me that she loved me,” Brian continued, voice distant and weighed down by memories, “she started with, ‘You’re my son’. That’s what she always said: ‘You’re my son, of course I love you.’ She made it sound like a responsibility. Because I was her son it was her responsibility to love me. I think that’s the only kind of love she’s ever known - as a form of duty. She loves by obligation, not by choice or affection.”  
  
Involuntarily, Justin turned around and squeezed Brian’s waist tight. Brian’s hands came together on his back and picked up the tranquil motion, continuing to map invisible tracks on his skin. Finally, Justin broke the silence. “It’s okay if you want to hate her, Brian,” he said, then sat up to face his partner. Even knowing that Brian didn’t want to hear most of what he had to say, he knew that he had to say it. Otherwise the subject would always come back to haunt them. “Only, I don’t think you do.” When Brian made a move to object, Justin shushed him with a raised hand. “Just listen, alright?” When Brian remained quiet, he continued. “I think you want her to be your mother, but she’s never been one in the past and most likely never will be in the future. It’s alright to have regrets about that. Even… no, especially regrets that concern things that are out of your control. But, Brian, don’t ever wonder if it was your fault. Or if you could have done something differently. Because it wasn’t and you couldn’t have. And it’s also okay to feel sorry for her when you see her lonely and miserable. It won’t mean that you’ve forgiven her. It just means that you’re human. And that you’re better than her,” he finished and looked at Brian who calmly and emotionless stared back. “I’m done,” Justin added.  
  
“Brian?” Justin asked with concern when Brian remained silent.  
  
Brian cupped the back of his head and pulled him down into a sloppy kiss. Not letting go of Justin, he said, lips moving against Justin’s, “Let’s go to bed.”  
  
Justin slid to the side to make room for Brian to stand up but didn’t make a move to follow. When Brian reached out a hand to pull him up, he hesitated. “Brian, have you listened to what I said?”  
  
“I heard you,” Brian quietly answered. His voice turned soft as he cocked his head and repeated, “Let’s go to bed.”  
  
Justin looked at him for a few more seconds, then smiled relieved and grabbed the offered palm to follow.  
  
Joan was history.

 

❖❖❖

  
Present, Summer 2012

  
**++Britin++**

  
“How does it feel, sweetie?” Justin asked.  
  
Alex tried to wiggle the toes of her left foot. “My toes are stuck.”  
  
Justin felt the tip of the shoe again. “They don’t fit anymore,” he muttered. He stood and disappeared in the walk-in closet down the entrance hall.  
  
“Your shoes growed small,” Emma opined from the door where she and Gus stood, waiting for the others to get ready to leave the house. “Shoes always shrink when you bring them home. But they don’t shrink in the store. Only at home,” she imparted her wisdom on her siblings and the grown-ups.  
  
“Shoes don’t shrink, Em,” Gus explained. “It’s you who grows.” Emma pondered this, chewing on the side of her thumb nail.  
  
Justin appeared again with a box of new shoes for Alex. He crouched down, helping his daughter into the right shoe. They were patent leather, black and shiny, with a clasp and only one rhinestone flower on the side for decoration and they looked new. Brian’s choice, of course. Though Alex did look adorable in them, Justin wondered why they even bothered to dress them up. Yes, it was the twins’ birthday. But Brian had rented a huge playground for the celebrations which included an inflatable bouncing castle, rendering the need for shoes moot. “Good God, you just keep growing fast, don’t you?” he mumbled as Alex made a few steps in the new shoes. They fit, but wouldn’t anymore around Christmas if she kept growing at the same rate, Justin wagered. Then he froze.  
  
“Brian?” he whimpered with a horrified wide-eyed expression, “I’m starting to sound like my mother!”  
  
“There was a time when you were growing fast?” Brian asked back in surprise, completely ignoring Justin’s complaint.  
  
“I’m not short! You’re just... freakishly tall.”  
  
“Don’t be jealous,” Brian teased him some more, “I’ll always let you sit on my lap in the movies when you can’t see the screen.”  
  
“No, Daddy,” Alex interjected, “That’s my place.”  
  
“Oh, you’re right,” Brian exclaimed and slapped his palm on his head, pretending to have forgotten. He bent down and kissed Alex on the cheek, offering his apology. Straightening up again, he turned in Justin’s direction. “You can’t sit on my lap,” he said, withdrawing his previous offer. “It’s Alex’s place.”  
  
Alex nodded once, satisfied. Justin smiled and rolled his eyes at Brian’s childish antics. Making Alex sit down again, he crouched down one more time and checked the clasp on both of Alex’s shoes.  
  
“Anyway,” he said, “back to the topic at hand. Alex will need new dress shoes soon,” he reminded Brian.  
  
“I’ll add them to the shopping list,” Brian answered.  
  
Justin looked up at his partner. “Shopping list?”  
  
“Yeah,” Brian replied, “once we get back to New York I thought I’d take them shopping. They’re gonna need new clothes for when it starts getting cooler again. Last year’s won’t fit anymore.”  
  
“We can order them online,” Justin gave back. “Just like we did all this time.” Even as he said it, he knew that he was arguing a lost case. Never come between Brian and his shopping plans. It was an easy enough lesson. Justin had simply forgotten about it for a moment.  
  
Predictably, Brian fixed him with a disbelieving stare. “They are three years old now,” Brian stated with imperious voice. “It’s time they are introduced and schooled in the fine art of fashion. We don’t want them to take a page out of your book, now do we?” he added rhetorically.  
  
“What’s wrong with my fashion?” Again Justin could have smacked himself. It was another very simple lesson: Never, under any circumstances, bring up the subject of fashion sense around Brian. Justin’s eyes slid sideways and landed on Gus who was waiting not-so-patiently anymore beside the door, Emma’s hand in his. He was rolling his eyes – even he knew the off-limit topics – and Justin shrugged apologetically.  
  
“Where do you want me to start?” Brian asked back with a you-can’t-be-serious expression.  
  
Justin could have diverted the discussion by replying something along the lines of, ‘Don’t. I surrender.’ But backing down would mean to declare Brian the victor and Justin felt an inborn inability to do that without a fight. He rose to his feet, having finished dressing Alex, and spread his arms. “You mean, you don’t approve of my outfit?”  
  
Even though Brian’s eyes didn’t go farther than Justin’s ass, he said, “Oh, I so approve. But only because I chose this ensemble.”  
  
“You did not! I bought it myself.”  
  
“Yes, after I persuaded you to go into the shop in the first place, chose an armful of clothes from the hangers and then pushed you into the dressing room, telling you not to come out until you decided upon at least three garments to buy.”  
  
Justin nodded affirmatively. “And I did decide. Which, in my book, makes it my decision.” Justin grinned at Brian, tip of his tongue stuck between his teeth. Brian latched onto it immediately, pulling Justin in by the lapels of his shirt.  
  
“Sunshine?” Brian asked after they broke apart.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Let me dress our kids.” It was neither a plea nor a question, rather a distribution of jurisdictions.  
  
Justin glanced at the watch on his phone. They were running late again, so Justin didn’t argue. But he couldn’t help but mumble, “I don’t know what your problem with my clothing is. I got your attention, didn’t I?” on the way to the car.  
  
Brian decided not to comment. And he wouldn’t admit that he remembered the checkered shirt ensemble well.  
  


❖❖❖

  
As soon as they were back in New York, Brian hurled himself back into work, but it wasn’t with quite the same vigor as before. Every day he tried to leave the office a little earlier than the day before. Some days he managed, but on most he simply couldn’t. There was a ton of new potential clients to schmoop and many copies to write and they were still all working on settling into being a team, the hired staff still getting to know each other and each other’s working routines. Brian, with the help of Cynthia, had managed to assemble a team of talented and hard-working people; even so, they weren’t yet as familiar with his high demands and expectations as his employees in Pittsburgh were and Brian was forced to pull extra hours.  
  
But the twins’ birthday had shaken Brian awake a little. He simply couldn’t believe that they were three years old already. Never before had he felt the time fly like this. Yes, his twenties had seemed to have passed quicker than he’d imagined, but on the other hand, he didn’t feel like he’d missed something. On the contrary, he knew he’d grabbed every opportunity by the hairs and didn’t skip on the amusement either. But now he was wondering if maybe he was missing out on his family. Gus was almost a teenager now. God, when did all of this happen? Was 41 too early an age to retire? The next moment Brian shook himself. What the fuck would he do to keep himself busy the entire day? Well, there was Justin of course who, conveniently, had his studio in their house. But Brian suspected he would have something to say about that. Besides, as long as they were still in New York, both their days were filled with appointments and they barely saw each other, despite the gallery Justin was trying to build next door to Kinnetik NY.  
  
Brian sighed. They both had obligations and responsibilities that tied them to their work and to New York. Even if he could find a way to surrender the reins to Paul completely, Justin had to be here. He had just begun the work of attracting artists. Now was definitely not the time to change anything.  
  
Spotting the clock on his laptop, Brian swore loudly and quickly packed up his things. He had left a message for Justin that he wouldn’t be home for dinner today, but he’d hoped to make it back before the girls were due for bed. Now he’d missed them. It was already past 10 o’clock in the evening.  
  
When Brian walked into their bedroom half an hour later, thank God traffic eased up in the night, he had to stop in the doorframe and enjoy the scenery. He’d seen Justin sleep thousands of times before, but something about the tableau struck him as exceptional tonight. He’d fallen asleep with the lamp from the bedside table still on which showered him in a yellowish, earthy light. Brian leaned against the doorjamb and loosened his tie before starting to unbutton his shirt. He reached for his fly the same moment he heard the voice.  
  
“You’re late.”  
  
“Didn’t you get my message?” Brian asked, stepping out of his pants. He left all his clothes on the dresser near the door and walked up to the bed. Justin lay under a cover and, aside from turning his head sideways to look at his partner, had barely moved at all since Brian had come in.  
  
“I did,” Justin confirmed. “But I was hoping you’d be home sooner. I had a present for you.” His voice was husky from sleep and made Brian’s spine tingle deliciously. Something about the languid silence all around them was making his blood flow hotter and thicker.  
  
Brian could only whisper, not daring to break the spell, though he should have been used to it by now – Justin and he created magic all the time. “What present?”  
  
Justin’s answer was to throw back the covers under which he was buried to reveal himself to Brian’s feasting eyes. He was already lying on his belly, legs slightly open in an unmistakable invitation. To entice Brian more, he let his outer leg slip off the mattress exposing his secret weapon. Even in the dim light Brian could see Justin’s hole. It was slightly red-rimmed which told Brian that Justin had spent some time playing with himself. But what got Brian rock hard was the glistening wet oozing from the opening. A tingle ran through Brian, starting at his neck, down the path between his shoulder blades and coalescing somewhere in his balls. His insides burned with the need to bury himself in his lover. The tranquil silence and Justin lazy movements prevented him from acting on his impulses.  
  
“You prepared yourself for me?” Brian asked as he slowly removed his tie.  
  
Justin shrugged. “I was waiting for you to come and do it, but I got bored.”  
  
“You should have taken pictures and sent them to my phone,” Brian replied huskily. “I would have been home hours ago.”  
  
Justin moved to the side of the bed and pulled a clear slim case containing what looked like a DVD from under Brian’s pillow. He threw it in Brian’s direction who caught it against his chest.  
  
Brian glanced at the silver disk marked only with an ‘X’ and asked, surprised, “You filmed yourself?”  
  
“It was part of the present.”  
  
They fell silent again and Brian removed the last pieces of clothing, all the while watching Justin who in turn was watching Brian. When Brian was done, Justin spread his legs a bit further and Brian crawled onto the bed and between them, spreading out over Justin’s back. Hovering above him, Brian whispered in the blond’s ear, “I love my present.” His mouth moved in on his earlobe and he spent some time worrying it with his teeth.  
  
Justin’s hand came up and tangled in the hair on the back of Brian’s head, pulling him further down and directing his tongue into his own mouth. They kissed sloppily in the awkward position, lips barely coming together but tongues dancing and tasting.  
  
Resting his forehead on Justin’s back, between his shoulders, Brian’s hands began to roam. He mapped the lines of the smaller man’s back, fingers sliding to the sides and gliding gently over ribs and muscle. He braced his weight on one arm and raised his head, tongue slipping out to trace Justin’s vertebrae. His other arm traveled lower, to the swell of Justin’s ass and delved into the open cleft.  
  
His index and middle finger gathered the slick goo and slipped inside, past the outer rim, feeling their way forward.  
  
Justin released his breath in a puff at the sensation. His neck arched beautifully as Brian’s probing fingers twisted and turned inside him, caressing his inner walls and going deeper.  
  
Brian pushed his fingers in up to his knuckles. Justin felt soft and pliable, no matter how deep he went. He’d done a very thorough job of stretching himself. “What did you use?” Brian asked quietly.  
  
Justin pulled away a little, enough to lose Brian’s fingers, and climbed out from under his lover. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he rummaged through the bottom drawer of his night table while Brian watched, propped up on one elbow. After a few seconds and a few muffled sounds, Justin came up with a stainless steel plug. It was a very simple design, completely smooth and cone-shaped.  
  
Justin scooted closer to Brian, mimicking his position. Their groins touched and Brian used his free arm to pull Justin’s closer until their cocks were pressed together. Staring his partner deeply in the eyes, Justin licked the metal toy and brushed the wet tip across Brian’s chest, drawing a line from one nipple to the other. Brian gasped at the feel of cold metal on his heated skin. Justin licked it again and, scooting away a little, dragged the tip down Brian’s torso, straight to their touching cocks. Using the toy, he gathered the wetness from the tip of his own cock before doing the same with Brian’s.  
  
Brian remained passive and didn’t protest when Justin rolled them over into a more comfortable position with Brian on his back and Justin atop him. His movements slow and almost hypnotic, Justin continued to play, drawing circle upon circle on Brian’s cockhead until the metal didn’t feel cold anymore. Then he slowly dragged it down Brian’s shaft and used one of his legs to push up and lift one of Brian’s. He pressed the toy’s wet tip on the sensitive spot behind Brian’s balls and swallowed Brian’s gasp with his lips.  
  
Their tongues picked up their previous dance, both hungry for each other. As the fire between them burned brighter and hotter, Justin unerringly found Brian’s hole and pushed the steel a couple inches inside. Brian bit down on Justin’s lower lip to stifle a moan. Resting his weight on Brian’s upper body, he continued to kiss him while he used the fingers of his unoccupied arm to collect the wetness from himself and spread it on the toy that he held imbedded inside Brian. Lifting his head, he looked Brian in the eyes and waited with a silent question on his lips.  
  
Brian’s answer consisted of pushing back on the toy, making it slip a fraction of an inch further in. It wasn’t what Justin had planned, but it was what he wanted right now!  
  
Justin’s fingers traced the rim of Brian’s hole to gauge how far in he was. The toy was so smooth, it was easy to forget how thick the base of it was. He didn’t want to hurt Brian, so he kept his fingers right where they were as he pushed the plug back a little and then back in, a tiny bit further than before.  
  
Brian’s legs opened and Justin scrambled onto his knees between them. While he continued to work the steel into his partner, Justin tried to rub their cocks together, but with both of his arms in the way it proved a bit difficult. Desperately needing the friction, Justin changed his position a bit so he could hump Brian’s leg instead.  
  
Save for the occasional moan and rustle of sheets, the air around them remained silent. Justin took full advantage of Brian’s uncharacteristically pliant mood and worked his ass for a good while, only reaching for the lube bottle when he thought his dick was going to explode if he rubbed it one more time against the soft hairs on Brian’s inner thigh. He pulled out the toy, that he’d managed to work two thirds of the way into his lover, and, quickly lubing himself, sank into the comfortable and snug warmth of Brian.  
  
They fucked at an unhurried pace, Justin resting his torso on Brian’s chest and Brian’s arms coming up and around his partner. After a while, one of Brian’s arms released the embrace and slid lower. His fingers stroked into the cleft of Justin’s ass, caressing his relaxed opening while Justin stroked into Brian with slow but strong moves.  
  
As before, Brian dipped two fingers into Justin’s hole, pressing as deep as he could in this position. He wanted to mimic Justin’s thrusts, but the blond suddenly picked up pace and Brian could only grab a mound of Justin’s ass, anchoring his fingers inside Justin’s wet channel, and hold on through the ride.  
  
Before releasing creamy spurts into his partner, Justin panted, “When this... is over... you’re gonna fuck... fuck me... while we... watch... the DVD... I... made for you.”  
  
Brian shuddered and came at that.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Two and a half months later

  
**++New York City++**

  
Brian unlocked the door to the apartment and, letting Emma walk inside in front of him, followed his daughter. “Sunshine?” he called while helping Emma out of her coat. Summer was now definitely over and every day began with a cold front. Brian didn’t like fall. Not being an artist, he couldn’t really find it in himself to appreciate the world changing colors.  
  
“In the kitchen.”  
  
“Be right there,” Brian called back. To Emma he said, “Go see what your daddy is making for lunch.”  
  
Emma, with some help from Brian, hastily toed off her stylish rubber boots and dashed towards the direction of the kitchen while Brian remained behind to hang up her coat and put away her boots. He’d just finished carefully placing his own Roberto Cavalli coat on a hanger when Justin appeared. He glanced curiously around Brian, even going so far as to check behind his back before taking one step back and cocking his head to the side.  
  
“When’s the rest being delivered?” he asked barely hiding his grin.  
  
“The rest?” Brian played dumb.  
  
Justin pointed to the three paper bags in different sizes that Brian had left on the counter beside the entrance. “You and Emma have been out shopping for new shoes for the girls for,” Justin checked his watch, “four and a half hours and I’m supposed to believe that three bags can hold everything that you bought?”  
  
“How many shoes did you think I would buy?” Brian countered.  
  
“Let’s see.” Justin pretended to think. “They each needed one pair, so naturally you’ve bought at least three. And of course new shoes mean new jackets, new jackets mean new hats and shawls and tights, and what would be an outfit without a matching dress. Or five.” Justin smirked when he finished. Brian didn’t say a word, so Justin’s knowing smile only grew. “So, when’s the rest being delivered?” he asked again.  
  
“Monday in a week,” Brian gave back and ignored Justin’s laugh.  
  
“You do know that our closet space is limited while we’re here, right?” Justin asked conversationally. He led the way to the kitchen where he’d left the girls behind and Brian followed.  
  
Brian was about to launch into the old subject of clothes versus closet space when the sight of Alex and Emma stopped him short. Justin had cut up one half of a huge watermelon and each girl was digging into one enormous slice, disappearing behind it up to their ears. Juice was dripping from cheeks, chins, and elbows and Emma grinned at him with careless happiness while Alex waved in his direction with the melon slice clutched tightly in her fist and smiled wide.  
  
Brian stared at them both. They were a mess of sticky juice and pink pulp and Brian had seldom seen something that had given him more satisfaction or a greater sense of accomplishment.  
  
Justin had almost bumped into Brian’s back when the man had come to the stop abruptly. He glanced around to catch Brian’s expression and when he saw the wondrous but soft look on his face, he followed his line of vision and looked at his daughters. Seeing past the mess they were creating, Justin smiled softly. Glancing back to Brian and at the risk of sounding like a lesbian, he said, “That’s the stuff memories are made of, huh?”  
  
Brian emerged from his thoughts and returned Justin’s smile. “Yeah.” Justin was right. Somehow he knew the image of the twins, sticky wet and beaming, would stay with him forever and he filed it away to the part of his brain where other happy memories were stored, most of them featuring Justin in a leading role, but those of his children running a close second. There were of course other memories he was fond of – a lot of them having to do with professional achievements, but they were outnumbered by far. He chuckled soundlessly. When exactly did that happen again?  
  
“Should I get the camera?” Justin offered but didn’t bother to move an inch.  
  
“We should be at Britin,” Brian said and startled in surprised. He hadn’t even been aware of the thought until he had spoken it. The image of the twins was perfect – or would be, if not for the tiny detail that marred the otherwise flawless picture. A miniscule little something that was lacking. A setting that Brian felt should be different.  
  
“We just came back,” Justin returned, not understanding. “You want to go for another visit?”  
  
“No,” Brian shook his head, “I mean  _this_. This should have happened at Britin. Should be happening at Britin. There should be a garden. And Gus should be there too.” Brian sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. Pulling out a chair on the opposite side of Alex and Emma he sat down and motioned for Justin to join. The blond slowly came closer. The question mark was firmly planted on his features.  
  
Brian hadn’t meant to say anything. At least not yet. Thinking about it didn’t equal making a decision. Apparently his subconscious had made it for him.  
  
“I think it’s time,” he said. Then, at Justin’s still uncomprehending expression, elaborated, “It’s time we go back.” Justin’s mouth opened, presumably to say something but Brian’s raised hand stopped him from it. “I know,” Brian said, “I know you have obligations here in New York. I know you and Ari are trying to start a gallery, Harbor,” he quickly added, remembering the name Justin had christened it only a few days ago. “You have commissions and galleries scouting your art and I know it’s because we’re here, in New York. I know it’s the place for you to be. I know it’s a bad time. I know all that. I  _know_.” He swallowed hard before continuing, speaking to Justin but fixing his vision on the girls, “Still, I’m asking you. To come back. With me. Us.” Another deep breath. “Asking you to leave it all behind and to go back home.”  
  
Brian finished and waited with bated breath. Justin remained quiet so Brian finally had to turn his head and look at him. The little fucker was smiling. Looking smug and proud at the same time.  
  
“Fucking finally!”  
  
“You been waiting for this?” Brian asked, confused.  
  
Justin placed a palm on Brian’s shoulder to calm him and shook his head. “No, not for this specifically. And not really waiting. Simply wondering when you would stop putting everyone’s needs before your own.”  
  
“I am not—” Brian began but was cut off.  
  
“I want to go back,” Justin stepped in before Brian could start on his queen-out. “I think it’s time, too.”  
  
“What about your art?” Brian asked.  
  
“I’m not having this discussion with you again,” Justin stopped him in his tracks. “We’ve been over this already. Some five years ago. And my answer is the same as last time.”  
  


❖❖❖

  
Some five years ago

  
“Why won’t you let me pay for your apartment?” Brian almost yelled into the phone, frustration echoing through the connection. “Will it change your art? I know artists are supposed to suffer to create, but will it really change your painting style? Will it make you less of an artist if I pay your fucking rent?”  
  
“That’s not the point!”  
  
“Then what the fuck is the fucking point?” Brian had left behind patience some ten minutes and a couple dozen decibel levels ago.  
  
“I don’t need a bigger apartment,” Justin insisted calmly.  
  
“You may not need it, but I am sick of sleeping in a single bed when I visit.”  
  
“It is not a single bed,” Justin replied, exasperated. They weren’t having this discussion for the first time and every line started to sound fucking familiar. “It may not be as huge as your bed at the loft or our bed at the house. But it’s plenty of space for both of us.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to endure your thrashing and flaying night in, night out.”  
  
“I do not thrash while I sleep,” Justin protested.  
  
Brian sighed long-sufferingly, not allowing Justin to divert from the actual topic. “Just let me pay for a bigger place.”  
  
“Brian,” Justin capitulated, “I may not need the bigger place.”  
  
Justin interpreted the silence on the other end of the line as a question.  
  
“I think I’m done here,” he said. “New York,” he specified. “I think I’m done with it.”  
  
“You’re famous and rich already?” Brian asked sarcastically. “Then why are you living in this shithole posing as an apartment?”  
  
“No,” Justin answered his first question. “I make enough. And I can work on making more. It’s just that… I’ve reached the point where I want you, and Britin, and everything that’s connected to it more than I want this… than I want New York.”  
  
“That’s a stupid decision,” Brian told him. “Not smart at all.”  
  
“But it’s what I want. And it  _is my_  choice, Brian. I decide what I want. Not you. Even if my decision turns out to be that what I want is you, you still get no say in it. Your input ends at making the same decision for yourself.”  
  
Justin’s words made Brian shake his head in surrender. It was just like the first time he’d realized that he was fucked. This one time very early on, when he’d woken up with a motherfucker of a hangover and wasn’t even angry or annoyed that Justin was still lying there beside him. In fact, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Brian even might have sent a silent Thank You in the general direction of the loft’s ceiling. Brian had already accepted Justin’s presence in his bed (and life) weeks, if not months, ago. But when the monkeys in his head were having a party on E, it was a completely different matter. Those mornings Brian usually preferred to wake up alone to nurture his aching head appropriately. But then Justin had brought him coffee and kept his voice pleasantly low and when, after an hour or two, Brian began to wonder why Mikey hadn’t checked up on his living status yet, Justin had informed him in a voice still barely above a whisper that he’d turned the phone ringer off and Brian had thought that maybe he’d keep him around after all. Only, in his post-alcohol befuddlement he’d spoken it out loud. And that was when Justin had reminded him that it really wasn’t his decision to make.  
  


❖❖❖

  
Present, November 2012  
  
They were on the plane, headed for Pittsburgh. The rest of September as well as October had passed quickly as they both tried to get their respective affairs in order. For Brian that had meant letting go and letting Paul do his job that, Brian had to admit to equal parts with disdain and pride, he did almost as well as Brian himself. In the short time that he’d been presiding over the New York branch of Kinnetik, Paul had managed to bring in five new clients, one of them being Heaven Scents Ltd. – one of the most prestigious perfumeries with boutiques all over the US. The revenue from this account alone would almost reimburse the costs of expanding to New York.  
  
When Brian had asked Justin to say Adieu to New York, he’d done it spontaneously. If he’d thought about it, he would have remembered the work in process that was Harbor. Luckily, Justin had it all planned out already. He was going to get Arianna on board, setting up papers that would make her the owner of half of the gallery. Ari gladly accepted, but because she was adamant about continuing managing Justin – a job that took up a lot of her time – they both decided to employ someone who would oversee the business. Justin had it all planned out in such detail, in fact, that Brian wondered whether he’d been thinking of going back to Pittsburgh as well. But the blond remained tight-lipped on that particular topic. Brian didn’t mind. All that mattered was that everything had worked out fine and in less than an hour they would land in Pittsburgh. From there it was only a forty minute drive home. And this time, it wasn’t just a visit. The thought brightened Brian’s mood enormously, despite the chaos and stress of packing and moving and the task of unpacking again still looming on the horizon.  
  
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Justin said, “Debbie said she’d have lunch waiting for us when we land.”  
  
“So you finally talked to her?”  
  
“She was overjoyed that we’re finally coming back. I quote, ‘About fucking time I could be a real grandmother to those cute little girls again.’ She also provided me with her working schedule so we’d know when she’d be free to take the girls if we needed a babysitter.”  
  
“Ah,” Brian replied, the penny finally dropping, “so that’s why you decided to finally tell her.”  
  
Justin squirmed in his seat and Brian laughed, his suspicions confirmed. "The only reason I didn’t want to tell anyone yet was because I didn’t want them to invade our home before we had the time to unpack and…” he looked around watching out for listeners, “reacquaint ourselves with our surroundings.”  
  
“But then you figured…” Brian prompted.  
  
“…we could reacquaint so much better without the girls storming our bedroom. Or bathroom. Or any room really.”  
  
Brian grinned. “I approve of your logic, Sunshine.”  
  
As Justin got back to the twins – Alex was staring intently at the screen of Brian’s iPad while Emma was on the verge of getting bored with her toy cars – Brian got back to the magazine he’d bought in one of the shops at the airport. Leafing through the high gloss pages, Brian suddenly froze when his eyes fell on the double-paged ad. Fuck, with all the packing and moving all of their things back to Pittsburgh, he forgot the advertising campaign of their first real New York client was to be launched this week. He studied the ad carefully, looking for flaws, details that could be improved, something that had escaped his eyes. He found nothing. It was perfect. Shilling Consulting wasn’t their biggest client, not by a longshot, but it was Brian’s first NYC project and seeing it realized in print like this made him feel... He couldn’t really name the feeling. It was a mixture of pride and disbelief, a deep sense of satisfaction and the intuitive knowledge that they were going to make it; had made it, in fact. KinNY was going to be the same fucking success story that Kinnetik Ltd. in Pittsburgh has been.  
  
“What?” Brian asked when he noticed Justin staring at him.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“You’re staring at me.”  
  
“So?” Justin asked innocently.  
  
“It’s unnerving.”  
  
“No, it’s not. You like it when people stare at you.”  
  
Brian didn’t bother addressing the statement. “Well?” he asked instead. “Are you gonna tell me?”  
  
“I’m undecided,” Justin answered.  
  
“Can I do anything to speed up the decision making process?”  
  
Justin shrugged and, smiling, shook his head. “I don’t know... You seem different somehow. You’ve been acting somewhat out of character lately and then again not at all.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Justin bit his lip, wondering if he should say it. “You asked me to come back home. Despite Harbor, and despite what you told Arianna about me not being finished with New York. You asked me.” There was a wondrous note in his voice that he didn’t try to hide. “I guess I keep waiting for your guilt trip to start but it hasn’t and now I’m wondering what changed.”  
  
Brian thought for a moment. “Remember our fight before I hired Paul?”  
  
Justin nodded and cringed, still a little embarrassed about his own behavior.  
  
“You told me you wanted me to be happy,” was Brian’s simple answer and Justin took it to understand that the New York chapter was finished.  
  
“So,” Justin asked, “has it been everything you expected it to be?”  
  
Brian rubbed his face and released a breath while thinking about the answer. “New York has been... It’s been tiring, and exhausting, and insane. But it was also...” Brian fell silent, trying to find the right words to describe the crazy, mind-blowing adventure that New York had been. Back in the college, during his first internship in an ad agency - that was when he’d first fantasized about going to New York. Now, more than two decades later, the dream was suddenly reality and Brian couldn’t help feel a little bit awed. “I’m not gonna lie to you: Coming back a fat fucking success feels fucking fantastic! Well, you should know.”  
  
Justin smiled and Brian could read in his smile that he understood better than anyone else. “Best thing in the world,” Justin agreed.  
  
“The next best,” Brian amended with a glance out the plane window, spotting the familiar confluence of Pittsburgh’s rivers. As amazing and gratifying an experience New York City had been, coming back home always would feel just a little bit better, and bigger.  
  
  
 **The End.**


End file.
